Oak and Holly
by MisoSoop
Summary: Fate works in strange ways. Four inexperienced teenagers are seemingly bound by it, and they must all come to terms with the fact that their calling to save their world from destruction requires them to put their lives in danger before they've even had a chance to enjoy them. Though, maybe it'd be a good idea if they learned to work together first.
1. Schoolyard Scuffle

This story will follow the basic plot line of Dragon Nest, but the writing posted here and how I chose to represent the characters are all my own. They are not meant to represent any players in the game with the exception of Amerise, who is an unused archer of a guild mate of mine. Any similarities to players are unintentional. Dragon Nest belongs to Eyedentity Games and its publishers.

Rated T for violence, language, and possible adult themes.

_Please do not complain about pairings. My own pairing preferences are very fluid and there is no guarantee that you will not see hints of every possible pairing from the game in this game. My focus is not to write about one pairing, but to flesh out the characters and story where I felt it was lacking._

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**Oak and Holly**

_Schoolyard Scuffle_

A sharp wind shook the canvas of a tent, the only sound in the snow covered clearing just below the mountain town of Mana Ridge. The sky was slowly turning gray, the temperature dropping rapidly. It would snow soon. Instead of taking shelter from the wind and the cold inside, two figures were outside of the tent, ignoring each other. The torches outside guttered and died, but only one of them seemed to notice.

"I don't think prayers are going to stop you from freezing to death." An irritated woman, she was very close to kicking the man kneeling on the ground in the back of the head. No one would find him in the snow: his clothes and hair were both white. "Or stop you from taking me down with you. Let's go."

He waited a long time before speaking, perhaps to make her suffer in the cold wind a bit longer. She was not dressed for the weather by any means. The only thing keeping her warm was a very small caplet. "Elora. I understand we have our differences, but please respect that this is something I have to do. You can return to Mana Ridge, if that is what you want to do."

"Of course it's what I _want _to do, Braedon. But two clerics are dead and I'm a sorceress; you know what they'll think if I go back alone and they find you frozen in prayer in the snow! I can't go back without you, holy man, like it or not." She scowled, moving closer and bending down to try and get him to look her in the eye. His head was bowed and his eyes, of course, closed. His fist was clenched in front of his mouth, but she could still see his lips moving in prayer.

Elora closed her own eyes in anger. Her orb floating safely beside her, she reached out and shook his shoulder, causing him to fall over into the snow. "Knock it off, already!" Her staff was already in a defensive position in case he lashed out at her; she had seen Braedon fight, and she did not want to be on the receiving end of his righteous fury even though she had provoked him. Infuriatingly, he just lay in the snow.

She had never imagined that, for the second time in her life, she would be carrying a cleric to shelter in order to save him. Knowing Cynthia had likely—and happily—assumed she was dead the moment she had sent her after the Vision Orb, there was no real hurry for her to return to Mana Ridge other than to get out of the snow. Braedon seemed to recoil in pain as soon as she dragged his feet across the threshold of the tent, so she dropped him on the ground in exasperation.

Considering the circumstances of their first meeting and their time together after that, it would be correct to assume that she would have trouble mustering up any sympathy for him.

When she had been returning to Mana Ridge, she had been unfortunate enough to witness a caravan of clerics being attacked by monsters, and while most of them had fled up the path to town, one Cleric had been cornered by goblins. If she had been able to, she was sure she would have simply walked by, but there was only one path up to Mana Ridge and they were in the middle of it, so she had no choice but to step in.

Though she was still essentially saving the man from the goblins, she had been unfortunate enough to have another cleric come up the path behind her and mistake her casting spells near a cleric a murder attempt. So he attempted to murder her. Of course she had turned her attention to scuffling with him, and it was coincidence that the goblins had all been killed by the end. As they were helping the injured cleric up to town, he denied it and swore on his life that wasn't true, claiming he had been attacking a goblin that had been behind her, but she knew that if she hadn't dodged, his mace would have cracked open her skull.

When he had finally introduced himself, he also finally apologized, admitting that she had been correct. If looks could kill—and they could, really, she just hadn't mastered it yet—she and Braedon would have never been forced to run errands with each other. They hadn't been forced to at first, of course. It was also unfortunate for her that after they realized a precious cleric relic had been stolen she had found a cleric's rosary and he had found a dragon cultist mask. Someone else would likely also try to steal the Vision Orb, the Astral Coven's precious relic. Of course Cynthia had sent her everywhere the cleric went, telling her to keep an eye on him to make sure he wasn't up to anything.

She had been annoyed with the preaching she still had to endure while fighting with him; the backhanded compliments about how admirable she was for a sorceress with a gambling problem. He certainly had been annoyed when she often cast her magic just a bit too close to his position or when a stray orb would knock him out of prayer, followed by a not so sincere apology. They had both been surprised that they had not killed each other by the time they had tracked the orb to Farellina's Rest.

They had also been surprised that they had not let each other be killed by the Minotaur that stole the orb, or that they had not killed each other when they heard that the orb had been stolen yet again and she had immediately cast the blame on him. Despite all those hiccups, they still hadn't been as bad off as they were now.

Their first standoff at Marion's Hall with a dragon cultist had been the start of this downward spiral they were stuck in now. Braedon had been almost too ashamed to return to Mana Ridge and inform Leonard of what had happened, taking Cedric's betrayal as a personal embarrassment since they had saved his life, as well as an embarrassment to all clerics.

Leonard hadn't agreed, even though he had been Cedric's superior. That made Elora like him a little better; she had been rather annoyed that Braedon was so broken up over a man that had nearly killed her first.

Brother Thomas, Braedon's superior, had immediately gone on high alert and reasoned that there was no way that one person could have done everything alone, or that they could ignore the blatant clues that had been left behind for them.

When they had been sent back a second time, to supposedly stop the cultists once and for all, he had gone in filled with the fury of a man seeking revenge. Not for her, of course, but for the honor of the Knights. They could both clearly remember the moment Braedon had grabbed the mask, and listening to it clatter to the floor after it fell out of his numb fingers seconds later. It would likely be something they remembered for a long time.

"By the will of the Goddess."

Braedon was pushing himself onto his hands and knees, apparently struggling. Elora did not offer to help him, instead deciding to offer him the opportunity to keep some of his dignity by turning her back on him. It was obvious from his voice that he was fighting back tears. She was not going to stare at him while he struggled to keep a brave face. It had been hard enough being there with him in that old library, watching him yelling at a dying man.

"It is by the will of the Goddess that I am here—that I was sent here to kill my friend, my brother!" Elora turned in surprise when he began shouting, barely managing a blink before a swift kick knocked a small trunk over. Clothes, coins and books tumbled out onto the floor, uncovering a broken statue of the Goddess. They both looked on as if it would suddenly burst into flames. Braedon knelt and picked it up, as if trying to figure out how it could be fixed. "Someone filled his head with lies, made him question his faith. This is no place for a cleric among these—"

"Do I have to remind you that I'm standing right here? Don't you dare blame the Coven!" Elora snapped, pointing her staff at him in warning. "Jacob was a cultist long before he ever set foot in Mana Ridge and we would never disgrace our Lady by supporting filth."

"Jacob was not filth!"

A loud crack; his mace was inches away from her head, held back only by feeble arms and an old, flimsy staff that was quickly splintering. She vanished in an instant, sending Braedon crashing into a cot with a blast of dark magic. The tent shook slightly, the air filled with loose paper and dust from an obliterated statue. The cot had snapped and collapsed to the floor on impact.

The silence that filled the tent then was awkward, and Elora found herself again averting her gaze as Braedon sobbed. There were no tears, but she stood and watched as he screamed and thankfully took his anger out on the broken cot and not her. She still wanted to run and by the look Braedon was giving her, surrounded by charred cloth and wood, he wanted her to do that as well. But, she had not been lying earlier: she could not go back without him.

Even as badly injured as Jacob had left her, and even though she was a laughing stock among the other sorceresses—she hadn't even taken her Master Test until she had been hunting for the cultists—it was not a secret that she had once been a prodigy; the Divine Order would not doubt her ability to supposedly murder three clerics and make it out alive. Neither of the groups in the Order would ever believe her account of what had happened, and she did not trust Braedon to come back to validate it if she left him here alone. The Coven and the Order would be at war.

"You said that you would destroy every dragon cultist you could find. Well, do it then! Stop feeling sorry for yourself and make them pay, they're the ones to blame here!" It was her final bid to get him to do something, anything, besides wallow here in the tent that Jacob and Cedric had shared. From all of his chatter of how important it was to vanquish evil, she hoped he would at least cling to that long enough to spur him forward.

"You're right… for Jacob's sake—for his honor..." he trailed off. He was not completely convinced, still wrestling with his grief and his anger, but after the scuffle he was feeling a little clear headed. They were both injured, and Elora had the Vision Orb safely tucked in a pouch at her hip. He would have to fall back on obedient instinct to complete the tasks given to him; it was of the utmost important that he continue to carry out his duties as a Divine Knight somehow.

"After you, holy man." Elora pushed aside the flap of the tent, dramatically sweeping one hand to guide him outside. "You should get there first so you can surprise me with a new staff."

Braedon of course had no intention of buying her a new staff, but he stepped outside before her to avoid another altercation. She could use the money she had been harassing out of Cynthia and the others to buy one if it was so important to her. It was certainly no business of his to worry about the state her staff was in; he had his own business to take care of as a Divine Knight, and it did not involve helping a sorceress earn enough money to pay off her gambling debts.

He was not going to need to rely on her staff to work after this.

The novelty of a sorceress and a cleric coming back to town together, injured, had worn off after their second trip out. Tara was the only one that ever acknowledged them, much to Elora's disdain; it was usually only to make a snide comment about their physical state and how she had never seen anything so endearing when they walked about together. It was hard to ever imagine them as friends, given how much Elora dreaded speaking with her.

There had been a bit of a disagreement over whom to give the Vision Orb to, but after threatening a pummeling with her own orb, they eventually took it to Cynthia. "Of course you can trust me with the Coven's precious artifact," she mocked. "I'm so honored you thought of me. Get out of my sight, already."

"I risked my life getting that back you know," Elora protested, gesturing to her battered appearance. "We both did. I think you owe at least a little something, don't you?" Braedon had been embarrassed when he had first seen this happen, watching her stand there with her hand out, waiting for payment and refusing to leave until she got it. She usually did, resulting in a little payment for him as well, but this time Cynthia waved her hand away.

"Not yet. We have to make sure the Vision Orb wasn't damaged first. Go get cleaned up, Leonard and I have work to do."

"Now hold on Cynthia, I think they've earned the right to at least watch the ceremony and see what happens," Leonard interjected. Cynthia's lip curled as she rolled her eyes, but she waved a hand.

"If that's really what you want to do then stick around. I can beat both of you sooner if the ceremony fails, because it would be your fault," she reasoned. Elora sneered, but Leonard was impatiently waiting for Cynthia to place the Vision Orb in its place; she was cautious when placing it, and the two took a step back together, watching warily as it clicked into place. Cynthia and Leonard both looked amused until the orb glowed brightly and the cane seemingly unlocked. Leonard let go of the cane in surprise as he and Cynthia also stepped back, the top pieces separating and allowing the orb to float freely.

A voice, unfamiliar to them, began to speak but Elora at least was focused only on the image of a young woman that had appeared in the light given off by the orb. She had never seen anything like it before, and it barely registered that the voice coming from the orb was declaring that woman the prophet. Only when the orb and the cane went crashing to the ground did she refocus. Everyone stood in a stunned silence and the gravity of what they had heard seemed to be slowly sinking in.

Finally Cynthia clapped her hands together. "Both of you. _Now _go get cleaned up and taken care of. The adults have to talk."

They both turned and left together; it was starting to become second nature apparently, to go where ever the other went. Elora was complaining the whole way, certain that Cynthia really didn't have to wait to pay her for getting the Orb back because she would clearly forget.

She complained the entire time while getting bandaged up as well, and it took her awhile to notice that Braedon had not uttered a single comment about how it was better to live with few material possessions, which only kept a person further from the Goddess, or made any mention of the news about the prophet.

"You aren't even praying. You're having a hard time with this, huh?" They looked at each other, both apparently wondering if she was actually asking out of concern. It had been about twenty minutes since they had left Cynthia, and it was definitely strange that he wouldn't utter a single word. "You're always praying. I'm not allowed to make an observation when that changes?"

"You, too… were honestly surprised to find Jacob in that place. I could tell that you were not treating it as lightly as you had Cedric, though the fight had been just as hard. And now this warning about the prophet being in danger..," Braedon frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. Elora scoffed, narrowing her eyes at him as he leaned back against one of the supports of the tent they were in. "I'm not allowed to make an observation when something changes?"

"Wow, I really hate you."

"Break it up you two. You," Cynthia had opened the flap of the tent, jabbing a finger in Braedon's direction. "Go speak to that stammering superior of yours." He stood and left without a second thought, making Cynthia sigh. "If only you had been so obedient."

"Oh please, you wouldn't want to teach an obedient idiot," she scoffed. Cynthia sighed and waved a hand.

"This is serious now, Elora. You have to find the prophet. I had suggested that you go alone, but Leonard and I both realized that given your track record as an utter failure, it would be better to send you both," Cynthia explained.

"The prophet is in danger. You can understand that much, can't you? I know I taught you this story. I have a feeling the cleric has it memorized! It's time to reclaim some dignity and honor, bright star of mine. You need to find and protect this girl with your life. _My _life depends on it." Cynthia waved a hand, unsurprised when Elora stood and glared at her in indignation.

"Pay me extra and I'll be out of here before you can blink."

"If that will get you out of my hair, then by all means I'll pay you! But, you have to swear to me you'll take this seriously, Elora. Go straight to Carderock Pass and speak to Deckard. You may have squandered your skills but you were still one of my better students," she explained, giving her a stern look. "I'm trusting you with a lot right now and you better not let me down again."

Elora looked at her blankly, and even Cynthia seemed to be flustered by the slip; she dropped the money and a note into a waiting hand and neither of them spoke as Elora left the tent. That woman doling out praise was unheard of. She should have been gloating to everyone right now. It had been a perfectly good opportunity for a snappy reply, but she had been too stunned to even think.

In the end she simply packed up a bag and used the money Cynthia had given her to buy a new staff.

She didn't know if she would be successful, or if she would even give this mission the time of day, but she still felt compelled to leave Mana Ridge and at least be prepared. Her gaze was completely focused on the snow, and all she heard was the crunch of it beneath her feet. She did not notice that Braedon was standing near Tara until she had nearly run them down.

"Well you certainly didn't _see _that coming did you?" Tara joked, before sighing. "That one was a little stale…"

"What are you two doing having a conversation? This isn't about another love potion, is it?" Elora grumbled. She noticed that Braedon was looking more solemn than usual, and only Tara seemed to be embarrassed by her question.

"I foresaw some trouble ahead for him, so I wanted to speak to him before he left. The Sight can be a heavy burden but I think I should do my best to offer guidance," she sighed again, brushing blue hair away from her face in exasperation. "Sometimes you have to actually make use of your gifts. And as always, my vision proves to be crystal clear."

"Sometimes I think your gift is being full of hot air and bad sight jokes." She sighed as well, gently shoving Tara's shoulder. "I'm sure that he can handle any trouble on his own, he does enough praying for the entire country!"

"Can't you be serious for once? You treat everything like it's a game and I think it's about time you start treating things with a sense of urgency. Or do I have to remind you that you only just finished your Master test?"

Elora chewed on her lip for a moment, regarding Tara with an utmost look of annoyance. Tara had made it her job to nag her ever since they were kids, and she had been pretty glad to get away from her when she had been sent to Lotus Marsh early. Of course, maybe she could have used some nagging once she had made it to Saint's Haven…

Braedon cleared his throat, ready to speak now that the bickering had paused long enough for him to be heard. "What did Cynthia have to say to you?"

"Is that really any of your business? We brought back the Vision Orb, so as far as I'm concerned our little partnership is over," she said dismissively.

"You're going to Carderock Pass, aren't you?" When Elora looked angry with his snooping, he simply cast a pointed look at her hands, where Cynthia's note was still clutched. He held out a scroll of his own and continued speaking, his voice tight. "I've been ordered to go there as well, for the sake of the prophet. I believe that should also be the reason that we agree to continue to be somewhat civil towards each other, as our paths are not yet done crossing."

"Are you sure you didn't foresee trouble for me, Tara?" She was looking at their papers with such an angry expression it was likely a miracle they didn't burst into flame. "Because this is _very distressing._"

"What I saw was definitely of Braedon's concern and none of yours," Tara said stubbornly. "Travelling with him is hardly troublesome, you should consider yourself lucky!"

She blushed after the outburst, Elora smirking at her reaction and Braedon regarding her with a small amount of gratitude. "Thank you, Tara, but if Elora doesn't wish to travel with me that is her decision. I don't take offense to it."

"Oh, trying to show me up, are you?" she glared up at him, adjusting her bag and pointing her staff at his nose. "I have a sense of duty as well. In fact, I'm taking this so seriously I'm going to leave immediately and not stop until I get there!"

He seemed to always be running after her.

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New Chapters will be posted every weekend as long as there are chapters finished by then. Chapter 2 will be posted this Sunday (one day from the point of posting this).

**This story is also posted on my WordPress, along with Bonus Chapters that I will not be posting here. **


	2. Helping Hand

This chapter is longer than the previous one, huh? Must mean there's a fight scene somewhere in here. :)

I think this is where people will see my attempt to expand and add depth to something that was already there... and I hope you all enjoy it.

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**Oak and Holly**

_Helping Hand_

The path down the mountain to Carderock was fairly long. Given that it was already late in the day when Cynthia had, according to Elora, unceremoniously kicked her out and Thomas had a bit more gently removed him from the Divine Order, Braedon knew they would be travelling at night unless he convinced her to stop. Trying to convince her, it turned out, was like trying to convince a tree to move out of your path. Contrary to what she seemed to think, he was not one to simply sit down and pray to the Goddess that the tree would see reason. The tree would move whether it liked it or not, even if that meant obliterating it.

He clenched his jaw, reminding himself that obliterating a sorceress just because she was stubborn was not at all righteous and he crossed himself as he prayed for patience instead. For once she took no notice of it, storming ahead and sending careless blasts of fire and dark energy into the forest. She had probably killed at least four goblins in the half hour they had been walking.

Any hopes he may have had for the snow convincing her to stop had been put to rest when he discovered that as well as a new staff she had somehow attained a cloak to keep her warm. It looked suspiciously like one Tara had worn…

"Elora, I'm going to have to ask you to keep your magic under control." Braedon was annoyed by her chanting her spells, but he also knew that it would only attract the attention of any monsters in the area. He was still tired from the ordeal with Jacob and using his own magic to finish healing both of them before their journey into the wilderness, and he knew better than to trust Elora to handle a fight on her own.

"I'm going to have to ask you to shut your mouth."

"Elora, really…" he frowned, his voice tight with the strain of trying to sound patient and understanding. He was not sure how many times he had prayed for patience since they had been forced to work together, but he was starting to believe that if he uttered it again it would actually lose meaning. Briefly, very briefly, he thought that maybe he was depending on prayer too much.

Had this been Jacob's struggle? He still couldn't comprehend what could have made him turn to the Cultists for solace.

Despite the negative response, he heard the distinct sound of her returning the staff to her back; it was hard to not make a smart comment about it, to give back what he got in kind, but the most he could muster was: "Thank you."

"You look so pathetic I didn't have much of a choice. I don't get much satisfaction from kicking a lost poochum pup," she replied easily. When he didn't reply, they fell into an uncomfortable silence. She didn't seem to know what to do if no one argued with her, and save the one time she had mentioned Jacob earlier in the day Braedon was not one to argue. He knew he was a stark contrast to the sorceresses she had grown up with who were all happy to trade insults and snide remarks.

It was not the silence though that bothered him; he focused contentedly on the sound of his boots crunching in the snow, strong and confident. They both knew that they could not consider one another a friend, and while neither was broken up about this, Elora was not quite as comfortable with silence. That nervous energy was hard to ignore; her footsteps were hesitant and quiet behind him, kicking snow onto the back of his legs. Both hurried when they reached Frost Hill, mutually deciding to not even give the idea of staying in Jacob's tent a chance to form. The sun was already starting to set but the snow was beginning to slow as they increased the distance between themselves and Mana Ridge, and despite his early reservations about travelling in the dark Braedon felt compelled to go on.

When he looked over his shoulder, he saw Elora with her neck craned to watch the top of the buildings in Mana Ridge disappear behind a cliff. He wasn't going to hazard a guess as to what kind of thoughts were going through her head as she left her home for the final time; he didn't think that she would feel any regret or loss, but he couldn't fathom any other reason for wanting to see it once more.

"Why are you staring at me?" Elora snapped him out of his thoughts, glaring as he quickly turned his head. "Don't pretend that you weren't, Braedon."

"I'm not pretending. I'm giving you privacy while you watch," he explained, chancing a glance back at her. She looked embarrassed at being caught herself. "If you want to stop—"

"Of course I don't! If the snow wasn't so deep I would be running in excitement to be leaving, I don't need time to look back or absorb it or—" she quickly snapped her mouth shut. "You're walking so slowly, if you're going to lead the way you better pick up the pace!"

"Of course."

She continued to shuffle along behind him, kicking snow onto his legs; he had obediently increased his stride, a feat of little effort since he was rather tall but he was aware that despite Elora's frantic steps she was much more adept at maneuvering in the snow than he was. They were on the edge of Snowmelt Forest and his breath was frequently appearing as large puffs of white. Though her face was turning pink from the cold, her breathing was still steady.

He was grateful that she had no snide comment about it.

The sun had dipped well below the horizon and any lingering rays were blocked by cliffs and dense trees; his concern about travelling at night crossed his mind again. Many of the Divine Knights he had been dispatched with had been hesitant about actually staying in Mana Ridge, and most had set up tents in Snowmelt Forest. He had a feeling he would have a hard time selling Elora on the idea of sharing accommodations with a Divine Knight that she did not know; it would probably be a tough sell for the Divine Knight as well.

After he brought up the idea she immediately balked, as expected.

"I would rather share a tent with a goblin, to be quite honest with you." Judging by the flat and dry tone, she was indeed being quite honest with him. "I know you're having a tough time finding the will to go on, but I'm perfectly fine with continuing straight to Crystal Stream. Besides…"

She didn't finish her sentence, leaving him to figure out what was going unsaid. Not in the mood to assume, he stopped and faced her with a frown. "Besides, what?"

"You know what. Jacob admitted it himself."

His body tensed, feeling a momentary rush of blood that probably made his face flush red. He had been pushing it out of his mind since Jacob's death; clerics were very susceptible to having Dragon Cultists worm their way into their ranks. While he would have been offended by the suggestion before, he found himself having the same doubt in his brothers that she was voicing, especially since it was the reason he had been dismissed from the Divine Knights. How many more were possibly waiting in the wings, now that they had killed a high ranking member?

"We'll continue on to Crystal Stream." His voice was raspy, his mouth suddenly dry, and it pained him to admit that he could not trust his own kind; even if he wasn't a Divine Knight, he was still a cleric. They were deep into Snowmelt Forest when they did come across the camp and he found himself unable to even glance in its direction as they both snuck by.

The moon was moving higher into the sky by the time they were trudging past the abandoned laboratory and cloister. They were both starting to feel drowsy, but their only options now were to keep going or to find a decent tree to sleep in or under. Elora supported the first option, Braedon the second, but it was Elora that got her way; his conscience wouldn't let him even consider allowing her to continue through the woods on her own. If neither of them were in any condition to fight, he at least had a shield.

"I'm not questioning your choice to continue, but it seems that your pace is starting to slow…." In fact, Elora had stopped completely only a few minutes after demanding they keep going. When he turned to look at her, she was sitting on the ground trying to rub her feet through her boots and glaring at him. He stood for a moment, a baffled look on his face. "How can I—do you want help?"

"My feet are just sorer than I realized. I'm not injured and I don't need your help." Stubborn to the very core was probably the only way he could describe her to someone that had never met her before. Despite the fact that she was in obvious pain, she was not willing to back down if it meant that he would be right. She would probably try to keep walking even if she was paralyzed as long as she wasn't agreeing with him.

He stood and watched her struggle back to her feet, the only thing he felt he could do. She took a few steps forward, wincing and giving him a furious look as if it was his fault that she was having so much trouble. Apparently taking his look of concern for a smug expression, or just offended that he had supposedly caught her in a moment of error, she threw up a hand in irritation. "Alright, I get it, I was wrong! We'll stop for the night."

He decided to give her the benefit of doubt, attributing her worse than usual attitude to exhaustion and hunger instead of taking offense to it. Braedon wasn't sure that he would have actually tried to defend himself under normal circumstances, even though he hadn't said or done anything to her. There was always something more important to concern himself with than a petty argument; finding a place to safely rest was always high on his list of importance.

The task of helping an irritable sorceress around uneven terrain was not an enjoyable one, but he of course did it without complaint, even though she was whining about how horrible he was right in his ear. They were both stumbling over branches and roots but he took the brunt of the troubles, drowning out her voice with prayers to the Goddess for guidance.

His legs were starting to feel like lead, and he was so worn down that he didn't even utter any thanks to the Goddess when they found a large tree with a hollow in it. Elora scrambled over the mess of roots first, using a very small fire spell to light the inside because the entrance was a bit narrow. "It's empty. No spiders or anything," she grunted, climbing inside. "It must have been used recently, usually there're spiders."

Braedon would have been surprised that she sounded so familiar with this, but Tara had told him, in confidence of course, that Elora had been sent to Lotus Marsh; though she hadn't made it that far, she had still spent some time in the outdoors. Still, until now he had never imagined her as the type of person capable of surviving in nature. His ears were still occasionally ringing from the shrieks of terror when they had come across a nest of spiders in Marion's Hall, and they hadn't even been monsters. If she had found a spider in the hollow, the entire tree would have been burning to the ground and taking the rest of the forest down with it.

There was barely enough room for either of them to lay down, and he had to swear on his life and many others that he would sleep facing away from her and keep his hands to himself; he wasn't sure why he had to make so many promises, when it was all said and done there was at least a foot of space between them and she had pressed her back against the opposite side of the tree trunk with her staff still in hand. Even if he had been tempted, which he wasn't, he was not foolish enough to try anything when she could easily cast a spell and kill or severely disfigure him.

Despite her misgivings in sleeping in the same place as him, Elora fell asleep with no trouble, giving into her exhaustion quickly. Braedon was just as exhausted, but he found that he was not finding sleep quite as easily. He hovered just on the edge, but it seemed that as soon as he was ready to finally fall asleep an animal would crack a branch, or he was sure he heard the clatter of a mask falling on the ground; when he heard Jacob's voice he had broken out into a cold sweat.

Finally having enough he sat up, bending one knee so he could rest his elbow there and prop his chin up with his fist. If he was going to be unable to sleep, he would at least keep watch. Almost on impulse he found his lips moving slightly in prayer even though he wasn't even aware of what he was praying for. He felt compelled to fill his head with prayer so it couldn't fill with anything else, drowning out sounds that he was sure he was imagining; his ears were ringing with nothing but memories that he couldn't drive away.

For the first time since he had pledged his life to serving the Goddess he was forced to admit that prayer was not helping. It made him furious. How many more ways and times could he be betrayed?

It seemed that in the space of a blink and a sigh the sun was rising, lighting the ground and the hollow. He carefully reached out and shook Elora's arm, and was silent as she grumbled and complained and used his shoulder to pull herself up to sit next to him. "You're lucky I wasn't comfortable. No more sleeping in hollow trees, agreed?"

She was already crouching towards the opening, grabbing the edges of the hollow to pull herself out. He followed suit. "Agreed."

"What are you mumbling about?" She looked at him, more focused on fixing her hair than listening. He didn't seem to hear her, and she rolled her eyes; she had better things to do than wonder what was wrong with him. As far as she was concerned he just wasn't much of a morning person, and that was fine by her since she wasn't one either; he could quietly trot along after her and she would be perfectly fine. After making a point of telling him as much, it was Elora's unanimous decision that she would lead the way to Crystal Stream.

If her feet were still sore she wasn't showing it, walking through the woods at a brisk pace until the trees had finally given way to a large clearing; true to its name, Crystal Stream had one stream cutting through the middle of the clearing. A large bridge had been made to allow people to reach Carderock Pass where they were headed, and from the looks of it someone was lurking behind a sign at their end of that bridge. Instinctively they both stopped, immediately assuming the worst of anyone trying to stay out of sight even if they were doing so poorly.

Braedon was the first to move forward, taking a few steps towards the bridge. "What are you doing?" When he didn't get an answer he continued heading towards the bridge, Elora following close behind. They were standing right next to the sign and the stranger, a man it seemed, still seemed determined to act as if he hadn't been caught. They did see that he wasn't wearing anything that they had seen the cultists wear, however.

"We can see you," Elora said irritably. "Everyone that walks by probably can!"

"Don't talk so loudly," he hissed, finally peering around the sign. "You must be the adventurers I was told about." They looked at him for a moment, obviously confused. The man floundered a bit when it was clear they didn't know what he was talking about. "Who are you?"

"I'm Braedon. May the—"

"I'm Elora," she said, quickly cutting off what was sure to be a long winded greeting. The man stepped around to the front of the sign, arms crossed and looking uncertain. She didn't really appreciate the scrutiny, especially since he was wearing a wide-brimmed hat that kept his eyes in shadow. "Shouldn't you return the courtesy…?"

"My name is Fergus." He tipped the hat back slightly, his brow furrowed in concentration. "You're obviously adventurers, but you should both be a bit more quiet and conspicuous in times like thes. Don't you know that?" As if to prove his point, he had dropped his voice so low they were both leaning forward slightly to hear him.

"Would you stop trying to act so cool?" she whispered in reply. "No one is here but us right now."

"I'm sorry." True to being a cleric, he couldn't seem to finish a conversation without asking for forgiveness for at least one thing."Our adventure has been difficult so far. She doesn't mean to be so abrasive."

"Yes, I do." True to being a sorceress, she couldn't seem to finish a conversation without making someone upset. She tossed Cynthia's note at him, not even watching as it smacked him in the chest. "My business is in Carderock, not with a moron hiding behind a sign."

Braedon cleared his throat, both of them watching as she turned and stormed across the bridge. He knew better than to call her back and try to correct her poor excuse for manners, and instead turned his attention back to Fergus who was scrambling to pick up the paper that had hit him. "I was actually told to speak with you," he admitted sheepishly, handing him a scroll Thomas had given him before taking him out of the Divine Knights and sending him on his new mission.

"Strange alliance, between a sorceress and a cleric," he muttered, looking at him uncertainly. "Well either way, you should see Deckard immediately, this will certainly be a high priority for him," he muttered, tipping his hat low again once he had carefully returned the scroll and the note.

Braedon knew of no other way to thank him except to wish him all the blessings the Goddess had to offer him. He caught up to Elora in time to coerce her towards Deckard instead of the ticket booth she had been asking one of the guards about. He suspected it was so she could go to Saint's Haven and disappear but, it was almost as if his presence made her feel guilty enough to reconsider. It had barely been an argument.

"Oho! Fresh, new faces!" A burly man with a mustache was calling out to them from the bridge before they had even walked completely through the square. Disgruntled by all the attention that had drawn they approached with some reservations, despite the broad grin. "Always exciting to see new youths scrambling for adventure, isn't it? I'm Deckard. Are you looking to take a commission?"

"Commission?" she raised her eyebrows in interest, but her partner quickly interjected.

"We're looking for a girl with red-hair that was recently kidnapped. Have you heard anything about her?" he looked at the older man seriously and they both noticed that Deckard slowly surveyed the area before he would answer them.

"We received word from her hometown of Ironwood Village that she had been taken by monsters. We assumed that it was just a simple matter of rescuing the daughter of a village elder, but your arrival is making me reconsider that assumption! You are the second pair of adventurers to come asking about her."

"Second?" Braedon wondered if there was already foul play involved, but given that Deckard didn't seem to be concerned he hoped he was wrong.

"The first pair was from her hometown," Deckard answered. He did not seem to be looking forward to giving them anymore information, so Braedon handed over the scroll to him as well.

"Fergus informed me that this would be a high priority for you," he explained. They both watched him read, Elora attempting to read it as well since she hadn't even thought to read either of them since they had left Mana Ridge.

"From Mana Ridge, eh? And from the looks of this, you have brought the Adventurer's League quite a rip-roaring adventure! To think that all this fuss is over the prophet." He at least had enough sense to lower his voice before shouting that information across the town. "This must be grave news indeed if the Astral Coven and the Divine Order are working together."

"I'm no longer a part of the Divine Order," Braedon announced solemnly. Though it was obvious Deckard was curious, he did not pry into the reason.

"Every adventurer has his story," he mused. "You're still an odd pair, clearly. I'm sure quite a few people would get a kick out of seeing you working together. But let's stick to business, shall we? The first pair of adventurers arrived here about an hour before you in rough shape. Now that I know you're both working towards the same goal, I think it would be safe to send you in their place."

"Wait, I didn't agree to any of this yet." It seemed that despite resting for the night, a sorceress would always be prone to disagree with anything she heard. "If I'm going somewhere in anyone's place, I'm assuming it's dangerous and I want to be paid."

Despite the fact that the older man was laughing, her partner found himself once again mortified by her blatant extortion. "One of those adventurers, eh? No problem, we always have something for the money driven! Fergus discovered that we are hunting for a harpy called Red Gale. We can trick her into bringing the girl to us if we steal a harp from the dark elves in Assassin's Den."

Elora and Braedon looked at each other, both showing some hesitance to going to a place called Assassin's Den. Deckard reached out and clapped them both hard on the shoulder. "Don't look so worried! I don't think the dark elves will be able to get the best of a sorceress and a cleric."

Leaving with essentially nothing more than a pat on the head and a complementary potion, the two walked back to Crystal Stream in a tense silence. The only words they had exchanged since leaving Deckard was to confirm that neither of them had ever fought a dark elf. Assassin's Den seemed to be only another part of Crystal Stream, the sound of running water covering their footsteps.

Across the stream they could see tents and barricades but on either side of them were tall cliff walls. Braedon looked past the left and Elora looked past the right, making sure it would be safe to continue.

"Nothing."

"The path to the bridge is this way. It looks like there are kobolds here." She took a moment to chuckle before grabbing her staff and twirling it from her back to her side. He could already see how this was going to end up. "I can't believe they were worried about this place!"

"Elora, wait—" she Blinked out of his reach, disappearing in a flash of light. He did not have to look to know that when she reappeared she was up the path and running right through an opening in the barricades, ignoring the arrows soaring past her. It was the same during every mission.

Inevitably he would run after her, unable to watch her put her life at risk and do nothing about it. He could already hear her laughter from the bottom of the path. "Braedon, you're going to miss out if you don't hurry!"

This was the only time that he genuinely felt uncomfortable to be around her.

The path was littered with arrows that had missed their targets, the kobolds not being the best marksmen in existence, but that did not make him take the situation any less seriously; if he let his guard down one would certainly hit the mark, and he needed to be completely mobile to fight.

The closer he came to the top of the path, and the more clearly he could smell burning flesh and poison, the more he felt himself shut down. Everything began to happen on instinct, and not even the appearance of an orc had caught him off guard. He was hyperaware of the sounds around him—of Elora's voice and his own shouts—as he continuously smashed his mace into the wooden shield until it shattered.

The chill of ice reached him before Elora's voice did, and he slid to the side in time to see the orc take the brunt of the shard of ice, flying over the edge of the cliff and into the water below.

She always giggled when she Blinked past him. Casting spell after spell she was destroying nearly everything in her path; the bridge to the other side of the stream surviving was a miracle. She fought as if she was invincible, ignoring daggers, Braedon's lightning and her own bleeding wounds for the sake of luring enemies in close. Every time he was sure she was cornered, a powerful shockwave sent enemies flying, and she'd run up the path for a new fight.

He was left following a trail of fire and blood.

When he caught her she was plowing through poochums and kobolds with ice and poison and he was feeling the usual sense of urgency; her itching to eliminate everything in sight and him rushing to block all of the attacks that she was oblivious to. Every strike from an orc against his shield shook his entire frame and he had to keep his teeth gritted to stop himself from biting through his tongue. Each slash from a dagger threatened to break his concentration.

It was satisfying to watch them writhe on the ground once they were struck with lightning.

"Braedon."

He paused, turning to look at his battered team mate. It hadn't been until she had called his name that he realized he had been smashing in the face of an already dead orc; he used his sleeve to wipe the blood from his face, taking a deep breath and sparing a glance at the bloody pulp at his feet.

"There's only one more place to look for the harp," she explained, nodding behind him. There was an island there surrounded by wooden barricades, connected to their piece of land only by a bridge. But his lack of rest from last night was starting to catch up to him and Elora definitely looked worse for wear, her hair starting to fall out of their buns and he knew that a good amount of the blood on her was her own.

She didn't seem to notice this herself, already hurrying down the path that would take her around to the bridge. He let out a heavy breath, calling after her. His voice was rough from yelling and he sounded exhausted. He wasn't surprised when she didn't stop or turn around, but he wished she would stop and think about what she was doing for once so he could have that same opportunity.

When he did catch up to her, which didn't take long, he was able to stop her before she went crashing through the barricade. "You're going to get yourself killed. I'll break through the barricade; you drink that potion Deckard gave us before you faint." He was already holding his shield in front of his face and blocking her path, so she didn't get much of a choice unless she intended to take him down as well.

Another deep breath and a moment to refocus, and he dashed forward his shield hitting the wood spikes and causing them to collapse. Over the loud bangs of wood falling to the ground they could hear someone screaming, so they rushed forward into a campsite. Three women were huddled together, cowering by a tent and Braedon immediately dropped his guard.

"Idiot!"

There were a lot of flashes of light after Elora yelled at him—some glinting off metal and others from spells—before Braedon found himself on his back struggling to keep sharp knives away from his face with the handle of his mace. His shield was blocking most of his field of vision, so he had to rely on his hearing to keep track of Elora, but he was aware that his heart was in his stomach, that the knives were actually attached to a hand, and that the hand belonged to a smiling woman.

He heard her tease him about how strong he was over his teammate's screams of pain and then all he could hear was his pulse and breathing. He kicked the dark elf in the stomach, allowing him the opening to roll out of the way and get back on his feet in time for Elora to crash into him. He dropped his mace, barely catching her and falling back into a barricade which creaked dangerously, threatening to give way and send them falling off the cliff on the other side.

Her nose was bleeding after being kicked in the face and there were shallow cuts on her chest that were from an attack she had barely Blinked away from. She was unconscious. His head was starting to spin. Using what little sense and energy he had left, he put himself and his shield between the elves and Elora though they were both collapsed on the ground.

He prayed for the Goddess's protection and aide, staring down the dark elf that was stalking her way towards them, her hips swaying all the while. He barely had time to take another breath as he watched blood spurt from her neck, an arrow lodged there. The threat gone, his body slumped in exhaustion, watching a blonde man with a sword rush into the campsite. He was quick and precise, and aided by well aimed arrows shot by a willowy elf who was slowly circling the perimeter to stand in front of them.

"Don't worry adventurer, we'll make sure you live to fight another day!" She smiled and knelt down in front of him, putting a hand on his shoulder while her teammate took care of the rest. Braedon was grateful, but he was glad that Elora was not awake to see him feel so humiliated.

* * *

As always, this story is also posted on my WordPress, where you'll find more chapters, bonus chapters, and some information about the characters!

Chapter 3 will be posted next Saturday!


	3. Small Blessings

NaNoWriMo started, but I'm using new chapters of Oak and Holly as my word count, so hopefully chapters will actually be published faster.

This chapter is a lot shorter than the last one, but I hope the content makes up for that. It makes me happy to see so many people dropping in, and it makes me even happier to see that people actually go on to the second chapter! I hope I see more and more people giving the story a chance as time goes on.

* * *

**Oak and Holly**

_Small Blessings_

The sun was drifting slowly to the horizon turning the sky pink, orange and red; the stream glowed, reflecting the bright colors and blinding Braedon through the gaps in the barricades that were around the perimeter of the small island. He had managed to stay conscious mostly through will power and was waiting for the potion he had drank to take full effect while he perched on a wooden crate, his gaze focused on the light glinting off his shield that was resting by his feet. The tent that the dark elves had been using had not been destroyed and neither had their food, making it an ideal camp for the new group of four.

"I'm sorry." The swordsman sitting across from him looked up in surprise when he spoke; he had been focused on trying to get a fire started. "I never introduced myself and I can't seem to recall your name at all. My name is Braedon."

Braedon hadn't actually realized how young the swordsman was until he had been crouched down with the elf and looking at him face to face. The young man couldn't have been more than four years younger than himself, and he had turned eighteen in the spring. To be saved by someone so much younger had only been more cause for embarrassment, but the young man's expression now was almost like looking at an older brother.

"I'm Conall and Amerise—she's helping your friend—is the archer." The blonde smiled wide and Braedon took note of the fact that he did not refer to the archer as an elf. "Dunno why I thought you would remember anything I said, you were in and out for awhile there. Travelling with a sorceress huh? Aren't you a, uh, Divine Knight?"

He hesitated a moment, wondering how he should answer him; he was wearing a uniform that was well known so he wasn't surprised that Conall had known he was a Divine Knight, but he didn't know if he should tell him that he had been expelled from them. In the end he decided that if they were to going to be working together from this point on, he should be honest with him to some degree.

"I'm just a cleric. Deckard sent you to help us, didn't he?"

"Yeah, sorta," he nodded his head his posture easy and relaxed. "I wanted to get here and get the harp and Deckard said that two others had already gone for us. We probably should've waited and rested some more, but if we had you two would definitely be dead, so it worked out in the end."

"You're rather young, aren't you?" He had grumbled about it before he had even realized what he was saying and though Conall seemed to take the question well he hurriedly apologized multiple times. "I do not mean that in an offensive way I—"

"Hey it's alright. I know I've got a baby face," he laughed, stroking his chin. "But I'm not too young. I'll be seventeen years old soon enough. Lots of people still get married at my age!"

"I suppose that's true." Braedon was relieved that his first impression of his age had been wildly off the mark; entrusting is life with a fourteen year old would have been too much for him to accept. He had been around Conall's age when he had joined the Divine Knights, so he couldn't look down on him for being sixteen.

"Amerise reacted the same way. You guys don't have to worry about it I've been training since I could walk. And you saw that I had no trouble finishing off Lydia and her helpers." Suddenly Conall was being very serious, and Braedon made sure that he nodded as solemnly as he could.

"Rather than being worried, I'm impressed. I truly mean that," he said simply. "Looking at you now, you don't seem like the same person that killed those dark elves. But I suppose in battle everyone changes…"

Conall nodded in agreement. "I saw some of the bodies you two had left behind."

The statement hung in the air, oppressive and uncomfortable. He had not expected the swordsman that had saved them to be so young, but he also hadn't expected him to sound so cold; his intention in mentioning the bodies was obvious, forcing Braedon to think back to the orc he had mutilated. Some of the blood was likely still on his face.

"I was pretty worried about what kind of people we were saving. I wasn't expecting a cleric, you know, to be one of those people, but it makes me feel a little better." He smiled again and the tension that Braedon had been feeling dissipated slightly. "I can probably trust a cleric you know?"

"Well—"

"Sorry to interrupt. Elora is still—uh—dead like a log." Amerise had admitted to Braedon earlier that she had not spent much time outside of the forest yet, so though he had been expecting some problems with communication, he was still alarmed. "Oh, maybe—sleeping like a log?"

"Yeah that's a little better," Conall agreed. He had been just as surprised by the mistake but not as surprised as the cleric that was trying to rise steadily to his feet. Braedon was rather sure that he had not been this rude since he had been a child, but he ignored Conall completely and silently pushed past Amerise who was still standing in the open flap of the tent.

He probably should have accepted the help that Conall had probably tried to offer him because he was still very tired and once he was in the tent he had to kneel down to make sure he didn't fall onto his face again, or worse fall into the cot that Elora was resting on. He heard Amerise and Conall moving around behind him, but his main concern was judging the distance between himself and Elora.

When Conall had put a hand on his shoulder he decided that the distance was close enough and raised his hand; it hadn't crossed his mind to explain what he was doing. The words for Healing Aura began to fall from his mouth on instinct and he didn't realize he may have made a mistake until he felt Conall's hand tense and pull away. It seemed that in the matter of seconds the tent was filled with blue light and he had a blade pressed against his neck.

When it became clear that the spell was done and nothing had happened, Conall carefully pulled his sword away, regarding Braedon sheepishly when he stood and turned to look at him. He was sure that the look he was giving Conall was not friendly. "It's only a healing spell."

The young man muttered an apology and of course he was immediately forgiven. It wasn't particularly in Braedon's nature to forgive, but it was part of his teachings as a cleric to forgive and he would always honor his teachings first.

"Braedon your healing magic is very impressive," Amerise interrupted. She was looking at him with a small amount of admiration and a large amount of curiosity. "Elves are skilled healers, but I don't think I would have been able to fix the damage to her face. There are hardly any traces of that now, thanks to you."

After dealing with a sorceress and harsh teachers he did not really know how to handle open praise, his eyes darting slightly as he searched for the proper response. "It's a blessing from the Goddess," he decided finally. "I shouldn't take credit for that."

"I've heard that clerics are humble, but you are the one that did the healing, not the Goddess," she pointed out kindly. He struggled for words when she smiled at him, and it was another blessing that he did not have to stand in the awkward silence for long. "Let's get that fire started so when Elora wakes up there's something to eat. I'm sure she'll be so hungry she could eat a horse!"

Amerise walked past both of them, laughing loudly as she left them standing in the tent. Conall chuckled when Braedon looked to him for some kind of explanation. "She really likes human jokes. She's not very good at telling them but she has a good sense of humor."

He wasn't sure if laughing at bad jokes was really an indicator of good humor, but he was polite enough to keep that thought to himself; Elora would not have been as polite but the idea that he would think of something even remotely similar to something the sorceress would say bothered him immensely. It was a surprise to himself as well as Conall when he volunteered to stay in the tent.

"If she does wake up I think it would be best if she sees at least one familiar thing. I do not know if Elora actually needs her weapons to cast magic, so I would feel very guilty if she hurt you or Amerise because of a misunderstanding," he explained.

There was no disagreement or any sign of resentment that he would not be helping with the fire or the food. On the contrary, Conall nodded as if he understood and trusted him completely, opening the tent flap and pausing before he backed out. "You two must be pretty close. I get it, so don't worry. If everything was switched, I'd want to be with Amerise. We'll take care of things out here."

"That wasn't what I meant." It didn't cross Braedon's mind to say anything until Conall had already left, so the protest went unheard. Just to be sure, he prayed that Elora really hadn't heard anything. He wasn't sure if he could survive that kind of misunderstanding regardless of whether she killed him or not.

When the sun had set and the only orange light was coming from the lantern and the fire outside, he had to wonder if his prayer had been too effective. Though he knew it wasn't possible he had been sitting in silence for what felt like hours, Elora still unconscious. After Amerise and Conall both came in bringing his shield and the food with them and securing the flap so they would be able to keep an eye on the fire, he knew he had been there for quite awhile. Though neither of them knew Elora, they sat and waited, choosing not to eat.

"It's alright. When she wakes up she'll eat, you don't have to wait for her."

Braedon did not worry until they had eaten, chatted, then left to tend to the fire and keep an eye out for any stray monsters. It wasn't normal to sleep for so long. Patience clearly wasn't the answer. Frustrated he stood and turned to the cot and was surprised to find that Elora was staring at him. She seemed to be just as startled, and though it was possible the light could have been playing tricks on him Braedon was sure her face was red.

"So, holy man… did you keep your hands to yourself?" Her scowl was so sudden he wasn't sure that the moment before had even occurred. Though she was still in her usual bad mood, it was still a small relief that she was awake.

He bowed his head with a sigh. "Of course I did. I don't know why you think you can't trust me."

While she sat up and carefully took her hair out of the characteristic twin buns, Braedon recounted exactly what had happened after she had been knocked unconscious and how the fight had ended, and extensively told her about the two adventurers that had saved them both. She didn't seem the least bit interested, idly rubbing her scalp and brushing out her hair with her fingers.

In the end Conall and Amerise had returned while they were both eating, eager to meet the last mysterious member of the team. Elora was surprisingly polite, answering questions without a hint of annoyance and not making any effort to chase them off or make them miserable. As far as Braedon was concerned it was because she wasn't really listening, something he was sure of when she agreed to take watch with him without a second thought.

He fully expected her to realize her mistake and protest once they were outside, but she sat on the crate without a single complaint and made no snide comment when he returned her staff and orb. The smack on his legs he had been expecting never came, and he found himself looking across the fire absolutely perplexed; it was like she was a completely different person with her hair down.

"Braedon."

He quickly pushed his hair out of his face, surprised that she was looking at him and not telling him what an idiot he was. "What is it?"

"I do trust you." She did not look happy or friendly when telling him this; she didn't even look bashful or endearing. But she had at least toned down her scowl to an expression of mild discomfort. "But that doesn't mean I like you. I'll be nice because you risked your life for mine, but only until the sun comes up. Got that?"

He knew it would probably make her angry, so he ducked his head when he felt his lips tug up into a smile, nodding solemnly as he tried not to laugh. He supposed he would take what he could get. "I understand."

* * *

I'd like to take this moment to warn everyone that I do not write fluffy romance stories, and to also remind you of my note that I probably won't cater to any one pairing. So if you're disgruntled (or maybe getting a little too excited), just enjoy the ride. :)

Chapter 4 will be posted tomorrow! By next weekend, this will be completely caught up with the chapters posted on WordPress, unless I finish a lot of chapters between then. If that's the case, I will update chapters during the week.


	4. Shedding Skin

And we move on. I try to spend a lot of time showing depth in the characters and their relationships in everything I write, and I really enjoy writing that kind of stuff, so, this was one of the easier chapters for me to write. Hope you enjoy it!

* * *

**Oak and Holly**

_Shedding Skin_

When all four of them had finally decided it was safe for everyone to sleep, it was well past midnight. There had been some hesitation and fumbling over arrangements; there were only three cots because there had only been three dark elves and that had been an obvious problem as soon as all four of them were gathered and ready to sleep. Braedon felt he had been the least perturbed by the possibilities for the sleeping arrangements.

Elora was intensely bothered at the idea of having to sleep in the same place as not one, but two males especially if she had to share a cot with one. Amerise admitted that though she and Elora were small enough to fit on the cot together she was not used to sleeping in the same bed as someone else.

Conall was intensely embarrassed by the idea of having to sleep in the same place as not one, but two females, even if he didn't have to share a cot with one. He admitted that though he was not bothered by sharing a cot with Braedon, they would not both fit and Braedon had agreed. Though Conall was the youngest as far as Braedon knew, they both had much wider frames than either of the girls and Braedon was rather tall.

"I'll sleep on the ground," Conall offered. "I'm used to it so I'll sleep fine."

Elora and Amerise seemed to be silently debating with each other on what they should do to make sure that Conall didn't have to sleep on the dirt. Amerise had been a given, but Braedon was completely shocked that Elora was also worried; somehow while he wasn't looking she had clearly become fond of Conall. Or perhaps this was a perk of being the youngest in the group? Of not being a cleric?

"I'll sleep with Elora," the elf decided. The sorceress had no protest, only reassurance that she didn't move much when she slept. The sudden turn annoyed Braedon but once everyone settled into their cots that annoyance faded rather quickly. He was exhausted after getting no sleep the night before, and even before then sleep had been scarce leaving him with even less to run off of. In theory, he should have passed out immediately like Elora or dozed happily like Conall and Amerise until sleep found them a few minutes later.

Instead he lay awake for a very long time, listening to Conall snore slightly and Elora yawn. The ambient sound from the stream circling around them did nothing to calm his nerves. The longer he stared into the dark the more nervous he became and he closed his eyes to pray. He prayed and hoped for some peace so he could finally rest; he could not be useful to his team if he was as tired as he had been today, no matter how many potions he drank.

"You were always very diligent in prayer."

Braedon tensed, his eyes opening quickly. He made no move to grab his weapons, standing calmly and looking out at brick and old bookshelves, the floor littered with paper and partially covered in snow. He recognized this place and he recognized the voice. Jacob often teased him about how frequently he prayed, though he was much kinder about it than Elora ever was.

For the moment he felt at ease, laughing with him. "There is nothing wrong with prayer, Brother."

"Of course. But you would not waste time talking to a wall when you could be out moving towards a greater purpose instead, would you?"

He found himself squeezing his eyes shut but it did nothing to stop the whispers that poked and prodded at his doubts. There was a terrible weight on his shoulders that seemed to slowly drip and spread and smother; when his lungs burned the weight settled completely in his hands, stopping him from grabbing his throat as he gasped for air; something hit his chest and neck with a thud when he tried, thorns pressing into his skin. His heart ached.

"Braedon, let go."

He lurched forward at the sound of a mask clattering to cold stone his shout dying in his throat when he realized he was looking out at darkness and not stone and snow; his heart was pounding in his ears instead of whispers which he realized after a few minutes may have just been the sound of the stream and the others breathing and sighing. After a few more seconds of staring into the dark he stood up, the cot creaking beneath him.

"S'goinon?"

Conall's voice was still unfamiliar to him, but the warrior didn't seem to take it badly when a cleric suddenly rounded on him with clenched fists ready to punch him out. Judging from the way he was rubbing his eyes he didn't even notice, so by the time he sat up Braedon was standing calmly.

"Lay down, Conall. Nothing," he said gently, trying to coax him back to bed when he realized he was not just sitting up but swinging his feet over the edge of the cot and standing. He was waved off, and after grabbing his sword Conall was coaxing him outside after him.

"It's stuffy in there, huh?" he sighed once they were out in the night air which was brisk and calm; it did a lot to clear Braedon's head, and he felt himself begin to relax again. "I guess it's because of us two, girls don't really get as hot and sweaty as guys right?"

Braedon knew that he didn't have to laugh with Conall to make him feel better, but he did smile a bit as they settled down near the crates so they could relax against them. Between the very dull embers of the dead fire and the stars, they were doing a very good job of not looking at each other. It was not quite as awkward as it was when Elora did this to him.

He did watch as Conall's head tipped further back, a slightly limp hand rubbing his eyes again. "When I have a hard time sleeping I go outside," he yawned. "I really would have been okay sleeping in the dirt."

"A hard time sleeping…" Braedon hesitated, rubbing his hands together. Apparently the young warrior was more perceptive than he would have assumed was possible; they had never spoken highly of mercenaries or swordsmen at the monastery. He could think of no way to thank him that wouldn't be completely awkward, so he opted to say nothing.

He was already settling down on the grass, lying down with his sword nearby and his hands behind his head. "We don't have to talk about it."

That was all Conall said; they sat in silence after that until he fell asleep, and Braedon sat awake just as he had the night before thinking and wondering and feeling uneasy. He dreaded another nightmare of Jacob. He could almost feel the sting in his skin from where the horns of the mask would have dug into him and he scratched anxiously at his chest and neck as best as he could through the rough fabric of his shirt. When he became worried that if he continued he really would injure himself, he stood up and walked.

Around the camp, across the bridge and through the bodies that he and Elora had left behind until he couldn't stand to look at them; the stream was louder away from the camp and the sound of it rushing by made him break into a cold sweat but still he walked. When he returned the sun was starting to rise. He did not remember going back into the tent and laying down on his cot. But that was where he was when Elora pinched his cheek to wake him up.

"You sleep like the dead." She did not seem at all bothered by the angry stare she was getting. As if she was fit to complain about how others slept, not to mention her poor choice of words. And all with her devil horn hairstyle intact. "We let you sleep in long enough! Come on, holy man."

It seemed he was being coaxed around a lot lately, blindly following Elora's beckoning hand and getting out of the cot. His head was pounding and his eyes felt like they were full of sand but he quietly gathered his mace and shield while he listened to her complain. "They want to talk to a guy called Brother Germaine."

"Brother Germaine?" The name was familiar and it did not illicit a positive response. But he quietly tucked his mace into his belt and pulled his shield tightly onto his arm.

"He let them stay in his house or something. I need another cleric in my life like I need another hole in my head, but I knew you'd be all for it. Since I was overruled from the beginning I agreed to it, no point arguing against three people."

He looked up in time to see her roll her eyes. "I think it's a bad idea."

"See—what?" They stared at each other for a moment, Elora stunned and Braedon annoyed. "You're agreeing with me?"

"I didn't interact with him for an extended period of time but I know of Brother Germaine. While a respectable and talented cleric he—well to be frank he is insufferable. The others did not want to spend too long around him, supposedly because the only thing he will talk about is his old master regardless of the topic of conversation. I'm sure that you'd eventually snap and with how things have been going if you don't, I will."

He felt just as frustrated as she looked, and he wondered for a moment if another fight would break out between them. "Well we can't go back on it now," she snapped.

"Perhaps you shouldn't presume to speak on my behalf from now on." He hadn't meant to sound so bitter, but he was completely exhausted and didn't particularly care about the slip.

"I was trying to be nice!" Though he had lifted his shield as soon as she had yelled at him, she simply turned and walked out of the tent without so much as lifting her staff or sending her orb careening towards his head. For some reason that made him more worried, so he was very cautious when leaving the tent. Elora was already across the bridge and Conall and Amerise were obviously concerned.

"Don't worry about it. We argue often," he muttered, stopping any questions before they could even be asked. There was no discussion as they travelled across the bridge and out of the Assassin's Den. Somehow he ended up at the back of the group, watching Elora talk quietly to Amerise and Conall. It wasn't often that he felt like the source of an uncomfortable atmosphere, but it was hard to miss the cautious glances back at him.

He tried not to scowl but he was sure he at the very least looked upset so he turned his gaze to the ground. They clearly all thought it was more volatile than they had first thought so with a heavy sigh he lifted his head again and tried to relax. He felt more guilty than angry, because Elora had meant well; she had even extended her promise to be kind well beyond sunrise. He probably would have assumed she wanted to stay with another sorceress no matter who it was, too.

He would have apologized for his behavior then, but he had the feeling that it would turn into another shouting match which he didn't want anyone else to have to suffer through. If she ever broke away from Amerise and Conall… he clenched his jaw to stop himself from scowling again. Being on the outside of the group made him feel like he was back in school, and that was not a pleasant feeling.

The sun quietly followed their trip to Carderock Pass and then disappeared behind dark clouds once they passed the barricades that deterred monsters from getting into the town. All four of them paused which made Braedon wonder if they all considered it to be a bad omen for how things would go for them in this town.

"I should speak to Adeline about repairing this harp."

Amerise's sudden announcement startled him and he realized that he had completely forgotten the harp. He hadn't even realized it was broken, but looking at it now, nestled in Amerise's arms, he could see that the strings had all been broken. When he met her gaze she was regarding him solemnly.

"I think Lydia tried to bamboozle us, the strings look like they were cut."

Conall covered his mouth with the back of his hand and Elora coughed; the poor archer was being completely serious with them but he couldn't imagine where she had picked up some of these ridiculous words and phrases.

"She probably did try to _sabotage_ us," Braedon agreed, hoping the correction was gentle enough that she wouldn't be upset. Her head tilted slightly, but otherwise he saw no indication that she even realized her mistake.

"Who is Adeline anyway?" Elora asked.

The strange word choice that had occurred seemed to have broken the tension in the group a bit, the four of them working through the crowded square together. Amerise seemed rather comfortable walking next to him, and smiled as she looked past himself and Conall to speak to Elora.

"Adeline is an elf who lives near Brother Germaine. We briefly met when she was standing outside when we arrived. I do not have a harp or strings of my own with me, but she might. I've heard others talk about her musical skills so I am very excited to chit chat!"

She giggled, the four of them laughing quietly as they moved across the bridge to the other side of town which was a place that he and Elora hadn't been. Though he had never really interacted with Brother Germaine before he recognized him almost immediately; he was standing in front of his home, a tall building, looking miserable under his wide brimmed hat with a clenched fist covering his mouth. It was exactly how he would have imagined him to be, and when he lifted his head to see who was approaching him, the small sunglasses he wore ensured that his eyes were indiscernible.

"Oh!" He smiled when he realized that two of the four coming his way were familiar faces. "I was just wondering about you. Deckard was very much convinced that all four of you had died, but clearly the Goddess is on your side."

Conall chuckled a bit awkwardly and they all seemed to wondering if they should share how close to death two of them had come, judging by the glances sent in his direction. "Well I don't think we'd get killed off that easily, Germaine."

"No it appears that you multiplied instead!" he paused to lower his sunglasses and Braedon had to stop himself from shifting uncomfortably under his gaze. "A Divine Knight and a sorceress, hm?"

"We've heard every comment possible about the two of us travelling together," Elora said shortly. There was some uncomfortable throat clearing before Germaine recovered, pushing his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose. He adjusted his hat while he spoke.

"I'm not surprised, it's very unusual. You all look as if you could use the comforts of home, especially since it seems it's going to rain soon. A very sudden turn in the weather, really, if only I could ask my master if it was a good or bad omen." He grumbled to himself while he turned his back on them, opening the door to his home. Braedon flinched, a sudden pinch on his arm catching his attention. Elora was giving him a bit of a desperate look, but it was too late to turn back. Germaine was already ushering them inside.

Braedon and Elora froze in the doorway while the other three continued forward. Germaine's home was narrow, with a few rooms branching off the main hallway, and a staircase in front of them. It was bright and calm and smelled like cooking and candles and it was a great relief that it was not a shrine to his master. But they were both equally alarmed to see quite a few clerics moving across the hall and down the stairs.

He could practically feel Elora trembling in anger next to him, tightly gripping his arm and digging in her fingernails. "Where the hell did I agree to stay?"

"Please don't try to kill anyone," he muttered in her ear as a young cleric walked by them. They didn't get to debate over whether it would really be fair for her to try, moving forward and following Germaine through the hallway and up the stairs before they lost sight of him. Elora held her head high, sneering and scowling at every cleric that looked her way until they were finally standing in a quiet bedroom.

It looked a bit like a dormitory, which he supposed both he and Elora were very familiar with. Germaine closed the door behind him and though he wore sunglasses Braedon did not miss the fact that he was staring at Elora's hand on his arm. "Well as you may have noticed I offer my home as a shelter for those that need it. Many of them are also my students. So, let's get comfortable and properly introduced."

Braedon took the opportunity to look around, carefully slipping off his shield while the others also took their weapons and propped them against walls and beds. There were quite a few pictures and statues of the goddess, and everything was clean and gray and white and a table with two chairs pushed against the wall meant to be a desk.

Germaine was carefully removing his hat and sunglasses, revealing copper brown hair and dark blood shot eyes; he supposed the rumors of him spending most of his time weeping over his master were true. He certainly looked meeker now that he wasn't buried in clothes.

If anyone asked Braedon if he had actually paid attention to any introductions or discussions that happened in that house, he would truthfully answer that he hadn't—he wasn't one for lying—and apologize extensively. He couldn't remember anything he may have responded to, or why he looked up and realized he was sitting alone with Germaine.

"Ah—where?" He stood up quickly, but the older man put a hand on his arm and gestured for him to sit back down.

"You fell asleep, actually," he explained. He smiled a bit, giving him a bit of a knowing look. "I suggested they talk to Adeline about fixing the harp while you rested for a bit. They were all rather sure you hadn't been sleeping."

It hadn't occurred to him that the others would have noticed and suddenly it made sense why they had been looking back at him during their quiet discussion on the way here. If they all knew maybe that was why Elora had done her best to be considerate towards him.

"Do not feel guilty, Brother. We all tend to keep our own distress hidden so we do not worry others, without realizing how easily others may notice it. Your face is not suited for keeping secrets." He paused, gesturing to his hat and sunglasses. "Neither is mine, of course."

"I didn't realize… even Elora?"

"All of them had noticed at one point or another that any time they opened their eyes you were sitting awake." Germaine leaned forward slightly, giving him a serious look. "Brother, you may think I'm rude for prying, but I have to ask if there's anything between you and the young sorceress. Anything that's…?"

"No. We're allies and that's all." He looked at Germaine just as seriously and meant every word. "But I spoke very harshly to her earlier."

The older man relaxed and nodded. "I see. I can tell that you seem to be harboring quite a bit of anger… when you're ready to speak about it you can feel free to come to me. But until then keep your temper in mind so you do not harm others around you; ask for forgiveness and pray that they are willing to give it if you do."

Braedon had wanted to immediately follow the rest of his party, but Germaine insisted that they had promised they wouldn't fight without him and eventually convinced him to clean up and get a few hours rest in a comfortable bed. He was apprehensive about sleeping again, but happily washed up and traded his tattered uniform for clean clothes.

The plain tunic felt like a huge relief, a step forward without burden. He was once again a simple cleric who took solace in the fact that the Goddess trusted him enough to relieve others of the burden of evil by blessing him with his abilities.

In the end he did lay down in bed while waiting for the others. And for at least a few hours he was able to enjoy the blessing of a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Chapter 5 will be posted next weekend. Chapter 6 is still being written, but hopefully it will be done before Sunday!

If you have any questions or suggestions, I'm open to them. :)


	5. Monsoon Season

**Oak and Holly**

_Monsoon Season_

Rain was pounding on the ground, turning everything to mud and drenching the grass and everyone foolish enough to be outside. Normally Elora would not be so foolish; she had been adamant in waiting out the rain, which had already been falling steadily since Braedon had fallen asleep that morning and had only gotten worse by the time Braedon had woken up around midday. She had threatened some lives if they didn't agree to stay inside, but her three companions were surprisingly just as stubborn and they believed that they could not waste any time in helping the prophet.

"I made a promise to bring Rose back home," Conall had said sternly. "I can't tell her sister I lost her because I didn't want to get wet." She had found it very hard to argue with Conall; while the clerics at Germaine's had been content to either pretend she didn't exist or to treat her with open suspicion, the warrior had been very adamant about treating her like a person. He seemed honestly interested in talking to her and during the long wait for Braedon to wake up and Amerise to return with the harp they had become rather friendly.

Elora hated to think she was so pathetic she would consider anyone that spoke to her kindly a friend, so maybe it had been the shock of learning that the prophet had a name and a family that stopped her from insisting they stay inside. Either way, from the minute they had set out she knew that they would have been better off had they all just agreed to wait out the rain like she suggested.

Beside the fact that they had all been completely drenched before even making it to Crystal Stream, once they were out of town they were dragging themselves through nothing but mud; slick muddy paths, deceptive puddles that were actually goopy pits waiting to get a hold of their shoes, and thick clumps that stuck to the sole of their shoes and made it hard to walk. Conall had helped her out of one of the mud puddles early on, but her expression must have looked so murderous he quickly retreated and didn't look at her again. After all, he had been the one to push for this asinine hike in the rain. He was first on her hit list.

Now that they had been in the rain for over ten minutes, she wasn't the only one struggling or miserable. She had seen Amerise cast more than a few disgruntled looks at the mud that was covering her legs and irritably wipe water out of her eyes; Braedon and Conall were both heavier even without the larger weapons and heavier armor, so they were constantly trying to pull themselves out of the mud. She laughed out loud when the mud finally claimed the cleric's boot as its first victim.

"If it is like this at the Valley of Mourning," he grumbled as he fished up his boot, "then I don't know how we will be able to defend ourselves."

"We're not even half way through Dead Man's Pass." Amerise's announcement did not make any of them happy and even Braedon looked murderous. Conall was doing his best to avoid his gaze, but everyone heard the cleric hissing something under his breath as he pulled his soggy boot back on. Elora was sure it was uncomfortable; she had seen him trying to get mud out from inside of it after he had retrieved it.

She was sorely tempted to gloat over them all for making the wrong decision, but Conall did look pretty upset already. "Have you been here before or something, Amerise?"

"I haven't. I have memorized the maps I found in Germaine's home."

Elora was actually rather impressed with Amerise. The archer had always come across as a bit of a moron so the idea of her being able to memorize the entire area had never crossed her mind. But something about the admiring looks of both Conall and Braedon made her angry. "Talk about an overachiever."

"Seems like a boring topic of conversation," she replied mildly. The look the archer was giving her did not make it seem like this was an innocent misunderstanding; she looked rather condescending, and Elora was sure it wasn't her imagination.

"Are you trying to mess with me?" Elora gripped her staff tightly in her hands, but before any kind of stand-off could happen Braedon moved between them. She was seething and too angry to speak, so she simply jabbed Braedon with her staff and plodded off, letting the argument end. She could tell that it would be three against one again if she had pushed it. No one ever sided with a sorceress. Or maybe it was just that no one ever sided with her, specifically.

She had thought only briefly about how nice it would be if she had turned back, but the only thing waiting for her there was a cramped house full of clerics. Going forward to the Valley of Mourning seemed like a better way to shove this whole thing in their faces anyway. If they were going to corner her into these decisions, she was going to excel at it and leave them floundering in the mud. She could hear them struggling behind her, and it was really sheer determination that was keeping her so far ahead of them; that and a slightly modified "trudging through too much damn snow" gait, anyway.

Unlike Amerise, Elora knew nothing about the area at all, but it seemed like there weren't many ways you could go on Dead Man's Pass anyway. Was it really anything to brag about, knowing this place? It was turning out to just be an ugly, straight path to the valley.

"Stupid elf… there wasn't much to memorize at all," she hissed and paused for a moment, jerking her foot out of another puddle of mud, "Easily impressed idiots, falling for that load of shit. I had every right to call her out on it."

Well, maybe that hadn't been exactly how it happened… "Ugh."

The rain didn't let up, but she was so completely soaked she barely noticed it. Walking through the mud was starting to become second nature, but again that was nothing to brag about. Every so often she would carefully glance back to see just how far ahead she had gotten and eventually the distance between her and the other three had become so great she was sure they were falling back on purpose. If she waited, she would be the one caving in first and that would definitely never happen, so she kept going.

Even though she had been rather sure that Dead Man's Pass lead straight to a valley, when the path seemed to start sloping upwards she wasn't sure if they had gone the right way. Had the idiots back in Carderock named the place incorrectly? Did they even know what a valley was? The train of thought continued as she stopped near the top of the path, narrowing her eyes slightly as she looked at the open area ahead of her, realizing it was completely uneven terrain. Before she could brood too long on whether or not they'd be climbing up cliffs, she heard a lot of scuffling and hissing.

She could hear Conall calling out to her as she jerked her gaze to the cliff above her head, catching a glimpse of beady eyes and arrows as she swung her staff in a wide arc; her fire spell barely flared to life in the rain and though she could hear the monsters scrambling back and shrieking she was sorely regretting her decision to neglect practicing with her other spells. There was no time to dwell on it, and while the monsters were confused she did her best to dash up the path and hope for a better angle.

They were kobolds, she realized, watching some of them run around in their stupid capes in a panic after having their faces burned.

"Elora!"

"I've got it under control, Conall, back off!" she snapped. Completely dismissing him, she muttered another spell under her breath, but instead of doing what she said he got directly in the line of fire for her ice spell. It took all of her control to only screech in anger and not cast more spells out of spite. "Conall!"

He took the brunt of the spell with his sword and face, the ice shards neatly slicing into his skin. When he lowered his sword away from his face he looked frustrated, and wordlessly charged past her; she felt the rush of air from his sword, and the shrieks of kobolds was the only reason she knew he had attacked anything at all.

When she turned around in surprise, Conall was waiting there to scold her. "You gotta be more aware of what's going on around you!"

"You're sixteen years old, cut the lecture!" It was tempting to treat him the same way she treated Braedon, which meant smacking him around, but she was actually very surprised that he was yelling at her. When she noticed he was moving away from her to head up a path leading to another cliff, she followed, clearing a path through the kobolds as she spun her staff in her hands to send them flying.

"I said I had it under control. I don't need you to get rid of these wimps for me!" To prove a point she rather viciously smacked another one with her staff and knocked it off the path and onto the ground below.

He took a moment to look at her while punching a kobold in the face but he didn't offer a retort. They were both surprised when the kobold bounced off a large, black crystal that was gently glowing and floating above the ground. The quiet didn't last long, they could hear the tell tale chattering and hissing of kobolds and suddenly they were surrounded by gnashing teeth.

"What is this thing?" The question was casual despite the fact he was swinging his sword at the crowd of kobolds that had seemingly sprung from the ground. Clearly they had been gathered there to guard it, and though Elora had a hard time getting a better look at it in the rush she had seen crystals like this before.

"It's a shadow column!" She had to yell over the noise, casting any spell she could think of and trying to give herself some space by using her shockwave. She thought she heard Conall make a sound of confusion and if she wasn't preoccupied she would have explained that they were overgrown seal stones that were hard to break.

Well, hard to break if you were an incompetent loser. Just another stupid security system used by stupid monsters. Once all the crystals were broken it was an easy walk right through whatever they had tried to seal.

Between the rain, the kobolds, and Conall it was hard to be able to look for the other Columns or what had been sealed off. Plus, the warrior had almost knocked her off the cliff after kicking a kobold at her. "Will you watch what you're doing?" The blast of ice she had aimed at him in retribution was stopped by the bodies of a few kobolds that had been mindlessly running and waving their little swords hoping to attack the warrior first. He didn't seem to realize the blast had been intended for him because he smiled; neither of them noticed that reinforcements for the kobolds had appeared.

If Elora hadn't looked away in disgust over the incident, they would have likely been ambushed. As it was she screamed in surprise and Conall stopped and looked in her direction. She had never seen this monster before; it was about their height, with a large elongated head like a goat skull, with horns to match. She was mostly focused on the very sharp teeth and the fact that he was carrying a staff and had the same ability to Blink as she did. She had heard sorceresses complain about monsters stealing the secrets to their magic, but this one—judging from the sudden bright flash that lit the whole area and the searing pain even though she had managed to Blink out of the way—used lightning.

Her head was spinning as she stumbled from her landing and slipped in the mud. Divine Magic. When had they learned Divine Magic? Did the clerics teach them? Had that been Conall screaming? She could hear the sound of tiny feet sloshing through the mud and knew more kobolds were coming. The monster was cackling, slowly stomping through the mud, probably to check if they were dead.

With a grimace she realized she had dropped her staff and orb, but she'd have to make do. Her hands firmly planted in the mud, she concentrated as much magic as she could to propel her off the ground, releasing a burst of flames and a shockwave that sent the kobolds and the large monster flying back with a screech. Her magic was not as powerful without her staff, but her orb flew obediently back to her hand; with a snarl she sent it flying at the monster's head and watched it ricochet off his face and hit the others around him.

"Think you can kill me that easy?" she flung out her arm, moving it in a wide arc in front of her. Without her staff she felt the chill from the spell creep up her arm. The ice spread across the mud, the kobolds and the monster struggling to keep their balance; when she cast it again a few of them froze solid. She scrambled in the mud to get her staff, and heard her orb crack into the skull of some other monster she couldn't see.

She had been willing to risk using an ice spell with her hands, but she was not going to play the same game with poison. It was a clumsy maneuver and she slipped in the mud at the end, but she managed to grab her staff and turn quickly, sending a sickly, green spray flying in the face of the kobolds and monster that had gained on her. The effect was immediate as they screamed, the acid like poison burning at their skin. The kobolds collapsed almost immediately from the pain and she knew in a matter of minutes they'd be dead.

When she thought to look for Conall, his sword suddenly stabbed into the monster's head. Everyone seemed to hold their breath until he yanked the sword back out of his skull, blood spraying from the wound. Conall simply stood and watched the body collapse into the mud with the others. "Caw 'emsevs sh'men."

"What?" It was impossible to tell what Conall had been trying to say; he was obviously in a lot of pain and struggling to move. If she was still feeling a bit tingly and numb after getting a glancing blow from the electricity, he must have been reeling from it. He collapsed to his knees, using his sword to stop himself from falling face first into the mud.

"Shaman."

Seeing Conall completely helpless was alarming and she struggled to step over the bodies to try and help him; judging from his expression he was just as surprised by her actions as she was, but he gratefully let his sword fall to the ground when she reached out to him. His injuries seemed to be on the left side of his body and he carefully leaned against her with his right side. They were both covered in mud and blood, and she wondered if he had been badly electrocuted, or burned enough to die. They had both been quiet for a moment and to shake away the negativity on his fate Elora sighed and decided to speak.

"So how bad do I look?" she grumbled.

He chuckled, shaking his head as best he could. "Shit."

"Elora! Conall!"

It was alarming to suddenly have Braedon running to her side, but his focus was almost completely on Conall when he knelt down in the mud with them. The cleric was surprisingly clean compared to herself and Conall, even though sitting in the pouring rain was starting to rinse them off a little. At the moment all it had done was make streaks appear in the mud and blood, which somehow made the warrior look a lot worse than he had before and as far as she knew she looked like shit. She could hear Amerise down below shouting that she had things under control over the angry screeching and the ominous 'thunk' of an arrow hitting its mark.

Braedon's voice was low, uttering the spell for aura of healing as he raised his mace above his head. Though Elora was now very familiar with this spell, she always got a little nervous when any cleric raised a weapon above their head; they were all used to bludgeon heads or to act as a lightning rod. Plus, he was just as, if not more, violent than any sorceress or warrior she had met. Looking at it that way, it was a constant surprise that he was able to heal so well. If she had been in a better mood she would have been ready to beat up monsters, or clerics, for hours.

"Conall, how do you feel?" Braedon had never asked how someone felt after using aura of healing, but Elora could understand why he did. The warrior did not seem to have immediately bounced back like she had, and he was still leaning against her for support even though his expression no longer seemed to be pained.

"I've felt better!" he chuckled. "Never been electrocuted before it—really hurts. But I can push through it. Save your energy for fighting, I don't think we're even halfway through this valley."

Elora wished that he would just tell Braedon to heal him again because the cleric was not going to insist on it. "Right, we have to break these Shadow Columns to go any further. I'm sure they've sealed off the way through with them."

"I broke one earlier," Braedon admitted. "But didn't see what—" As if on cue the sound of one shattering interrupted him. Amerise was standing in the field below, waving cheerfully amongst the bodies of kobolds and shards of black crystal.

"I got it! There's a cave down here, too!"

"Amerise saves the day again," Elora quipped. Neither of the boys had a comment for that and she was busy getting Conall's arm over her shoulders. Every attempt to get him back onto his feet seemed to cause him an intense amount of discomfort and it didn't help that Conall was much heavier than anything she had bothered to carry. Braedon did his best to help without aggravating his burns, but he was still hissing in pain and had a tight grip on Elora's shoulder and neck, which made her hiss as well.

He let out a sigh of relief once he was back on his feet. "Thanks, El. Sorry for hurting you," he muttered. He smiled, raising his voice a bit. "Just get me started and I'll be able to walk on my own in no time."

Braedon was giving them both a surreptitious look that Elora was sure he didn't think they would notice. He was readying his mace again and he spoke up as he turned his attention to the shadow column. "You should at least wait until you're down the slope before trying to walk on your own. If you fall it would probably be very painful. I'll wait until you're down to break this, in case the debris hits you."

"Alright, mom." Conall and Elora both laughed and slowly started down the slope. She was rather sure she'd hear Braedon muffle a laugh as well, but the rain was still falling heavily and between the two of them laughing she couldn't hear much. Amerise was waiting for them at the bottom of the slope, carefully watching their decent in case they needed help.

"The rain has cleaned both of you up a bit," she commented. "But Conall, you really look awful. Maybe we should head back to town. Red Gale will not come in the rain and you're too injured to wait for the rain to stop."

"Is the harp safe?" Conall completely changed the topic and to her surprise Amerise smiled fondly instead of getting angry.

"Safe and sound." She turned and showed him the harp, which was carefully wrapped and strapped onto her back. "Braedon made sure to cover me."

"When the rain stops… we'll face Red Gale," he reasoned. Sleeping in a cave was the last thing Elora wanted to do, but she heard the crystal shatter to pieces and knew that she wouldn't have much of a choice again. Braedon would not argue with Conall, and Amerise had immediately stopped pushing the idea of going back as soon as the topic had been changed. She supposed they both trusted him. Amerise was wordlessly leading the way into the cave and Braedon caught up to her and followed without questioning her or Conall on whether it was a good idea.

Of course, wasn't the same true for her? Voluntarily helping him walk and to the cave no less was not something she would have done for Braedon; she would have dragged the cleric back to town by his ankles to keep up appearances a bit, but she would have been forcing him back. She had even gone out of her way to make sure Conall didn't have to sleep on the ground before.

Did this kid have some kind of spell on him?

Before she could even sneer at the idea Conall quietly thanked her again and attempted to walk on his own, using her arm to support faltering steps. "Look, just lean on me until we get to the cave. I don't need you slipping in the mud," she grumbled.

"Hey, I can do it."

"No. They'll blame me for letting you fall."

She hadn't meant to sound so harsh, but surprisingly Conall was looking at her as if he understood. He smiled a bit and put his arm back over her shoulders. "Alright. When we get to the cave then… you'll help cover me, right?"

"What do you think I'll do, drop you on the floor and run?"

Conall's only answer was a laugh. She was starting to become tempted to drop him, but she had insisted, so she helped him into the cave. It seemed to be lit by some kind of mushroom, which bounced off the natural crystals inside; Braedon and Amerise were no where to be seen but she could hear them further in the cave, and smell the lightning from Braedon's spells. Apparently they weren't alone in here.

Once she was sure that the warrior wouldn't actually fall to the floor, Elora let him stand on his own and rounded the corner ahead of him to see what was happening; judging from the screeching and stupid capes, there had been more kobolds waiting inside, but Braedon and Amerise had nearly subdued them all already. Since they didn't seem to need her help she opted to watch instead, and Conall was at her side only a moment later.

She wasn't sure what she had been expecting. Maybe a perfect display of teamwork? Either way she was completely surprised to see Braedon and Amerise tripping over each other, and the sharp corrections when a bolt of lightning or arrow got too close. Really, it was exactly as she had Braedon had been the first time they had been forced to fight side by side.

So why did both of them seem to still be in a good mood when all the kobolds were dead?

She stomped over, looking at their relieved expressions and listening to them muttering apologies and compliments, and rolled her eyes. "Can you two stop flirting for a second? We need to figure out what we're going to do."

"That's flirting?" Amerise looked genuinely surprised… and a little bit excited. Her blush was infuriating. "Conall, how are you doing?"

His expression was still pained and his gait had a slight limp, but he was moving easier than he had in the mud. He smiled and offered a thumbs-up. "Good enough to clear out anything in this cave. Definitely."

"Are you sure you don't want me to try and heal you again, Conall? It would help you."

Elora made a sound of annoyance that the other three ignored. They sure liked to worry and fret over each other. Somehow they had all decided to take stock of everyone's well being which she stubbornly refused to be a part of. She was more focused on thinking about how much she hated the cave, and she wasn't sure it was very sturdy either. It felt like it was shaking.

She was going to point this out to them when she noticed something was moving further into the cave; when she realized that the shaking was caused by this thing's footsteps she grabbed Conall's shoulder. Her heart had already sunk into her stomach, and his colorful cursing did not make her feel any better. Amerise turned quickly, arrow ready and pointing into the gloom.

"What is it?" Braedon muttered, already moving to cover her. Amerise was quiet for a long time, her hand shaking slightly.

"Minotaur."


	6. Crash Course

**Oak and Holly**

_Crash Course_

Though Amerise had the sharpest eyes in the group, Elora had in some way known what the dark looming creature had been; it had been slowly looming closer since then, seemingly growing larger and more intimidating with each step. Its horns stood out easily in the gloom of the cave because they were white, but the foul smell that came with it was even more noticeable. It was not a surprise that an overgrown cow would still smell like its smaller relatives, magnified to an unbearable extreme.

The small group was buzzing with nervous energy. Amerise was waiting with her arrow drawn, her hands growing steadier the longer she stood. But it seemed, probably to all of them, that they did not know what to do. Had Amerise and Conall actually fought one before? Or maybe they were like her, familiar mostly through books and drawings with most of the monsters in the world until she had finally seen one in person in Silent Cloister.

This was a creature much larger than the one she had faced with Braedon, wielding an axe that seemed to be nearly as tall as the cave itself. It was snorting in irritation, and though it was almost invisible in the light of the cave because of its black fur, it was easy to tell that it was looking at them intently as if it was waiting for them to make the first move. They remained frozen, Conall nervously tightening his grip on his sword.

Braedon seemed to be looking back at her sternly, but she quickly realized that he was looking to Conall. He stubbornly raised his mace, muttered the spell, and filled the area with brilliant light. The minotaur let out a deafening roar, the awful cry bouncing off the walls of the cave. They all flinched, Amerise lowering how bow for a brief moment as the monster charged, his head low and axe held in front of him, ready to swing. Elora's ears were still ringing and she barely noticed that the archer had lifted her bow again and released the arrow.

"Damn!"

"You missed?" If they hadn't been on the verge of being trampled, Elora would have gloated over the slip a bit more. Instead she sounded alarmed, and she only faintly heard Amerise's answer as she jumped out of sight. Conall followed, ducking under the axe and gesturing for her to follow as well before he disappeared behind the minotaur. Perhaps it was in a panic, but she followed Braedon instead, darting off to the left.

As she and Braedon ran around one of the stone pillars, it was obvious that Amerise hadn't missed. The arrow was plainly stuck in the monster's left eye, blood glistening faintly in his fur. The other two had taken advantage of his lack of vision and slipped by him to his left, but he did not miss her and Braedon quite as easily. He turned and swung the axe at the pillar and it shattered, large rocks falling towards them. She didn't complain when the cleric hooked an arm around her waist, stopping her from running and raising his shield above his head to protect them both, but that was because he had knocked the wind out of her.

He apologized when he heard her gasp and wheeze over the loud thuds and clangs above them. All she could do was scowl and pinch his ear and then they were separated again. Over the crashing and snorting and possible curses-could minotaurs even speak?-that were coming from behind her, she could only faintly hear Amerise and Conall arguing.

"I can work through the pain, you don't have to worry."

"It's not just the two of us anymore, Conall, you don't have to strain yourself like this."

"I can't just sit on my ass while the rest of you fight this guy."

By now Elora had turned her attention to them completely, and she noticed that Braedon seemed to be watching this as well. Amerise was looking at Conall very seriously and eventually her frown looked a bit more sympathetic. "Then just focus on protecting us."

"You little shits! You ruin my eye and act like the fight is over? I hope you're happy with your last words!"

As quickly as they had regrouped they scattered again, the axe crashing down into the cave floor where they had been standing. Elora was quick to use poison, and was satisfied when the minotaur writhed in pain. She saw Braedon's lightning briefly before her field of vision was filled with fire; it was great to be able to use the spell she relied on again.

To her surprise Amerise had gone in the same direction she had instead of following Conall or Braedon; she could hear the arrows leaving her bow quickly, and the minotaur was in clear agony as an arrow surrounded by a faint glow struck his neck. Though she was tired of the archer seeming like a know-it-all she seemed to be the one that would have more experience with fighting these kinds of monsters. "Did you know these things could talk?"

"Yes, but they usually don't speak your-"

Elora wasn't completely sure what had happened, but the thought crossed her mind that she might be dying; there was searing pain in her torso and she was tossed up and back into the air. She heard her staff crack and Amerise scream in pain over seemingly faint sounds below them.

So this is what it felt like to be hit with an axe.

Though her eyes were closed, she could see that she was surrounded by bright light. Before she could even muse about what it felt like to die, she hit the ground and rolled, and bounced, until she crashed into stone and stopped. Her head was spinning, but she could hear Conall yelling in a panic and Braedon replying. Elora was content to lay on the ground and listen, opening her eyes slightly to look at the stone wall that she had been thrown into.

Why had she even agreed to all of this? She knew all that was waiting for her back in Carderock was a house of clerics and a few measly pieces of silver from Deckard. Certainly her life was worth more than that. It wasn't like this rag-tag team was worth being a part of anyway. They hadn't even noticed she was laying over here. Conall was, from the sound of it, completely absorbed with worrying over Amerise and she had no idea what Braedon was doing.

She wasn't sure how long she had laid there but it felt like days before Braedon was suddenly grabbing her shoulders and helping her sit up. She could tell that her hair had fallen out of the buns because it was falling front of her face. It seemed that Braedon was trying to fix it, but when she felt something wet smear across the side of her head she realized he was only trying to find the source of her bleeding.

He looked like a mess, and judging from a lot of the bruising she could see on his face he had definitely gotten knocked around. He was also covered in blood that did not seem to be his own. She could tell that it had splattered onto him recently. It took her a few moments to realize that he was looking at her expectantly and judging from the frown he was also a bit annoyed with her.

"I can't tell if you're just ignoring me or suffering from a concussion," he grumbled.

"Well I'm not ignoring you on purpose." She hadn't really meant for her retort to sound so angry, but she was sore and still felt disoriented. "Whose blood is that?"

"Yours, Amerise's and that minotaur's," he replied calmly. When she didn't respond-and looked very confused-he took it upon himself to explain everything to her. "Your blood got everywhere when that monster got both of you with his axe. Amerise is lucky that Conall caught her, but she won't be able to fight. We're the only ones that can fight now."

"I probably have the same injuries as her you know! Or worse, since no one bothered to try and catch me," she snapped. It was satisfying to see that Braedon was embarrassed and he cleared his throat a bit.

"It looked like your staff had helped take a lot of the hit. Amerise took it head on, so-"

"Nice to know where everyone's priorities are."

"Wh—Elora it wasn't like that. I cast aura of healing on both of you before you landed. There was a lot going on and I honestly thought you were okay," Braedon insisted. With an exasperated sigh she put a hand on his bruised face and shoved him away, pressing her other hand against the stone wall and standing up. Her torso hurt quite badly, and the rest of her body was sore from her painful landing, but she was able to lean against the wall and scowl down at him.

They stared at each other for a moment until he bowed his head, his face disappearing behind long white hair. "I'm sorry."

"I don't accept your apology. You can stew in that guilt for a while," she decided. In her mind the conversation was over, so she turned her attention to her surroundings instead. The body of the minotaur was maybe six feet away, and he did not look as if he had died easily; even from here she could see that his skull had been completely destroyed by one too many swings of a mace. Closer to the entrance of the cave she could see Conall resting with Amerise against the remains of the stone pillar that the minotaur had destroyed in an attempt to crush her and Braedon.

Though Braedon had said he had cast his healing spell immediately Conall looked very concerned and given how Amerise looked Elora really couldn't blame him; her outfit, which had once been green, had turned to the reddish-brown of drying blood. Her skin was paler than usual and even her lips looked like a pasty white. If it hadn't been obvious she was taking deep breaths, and wincing with each one, it would have been easy to mistake the archer for just another dead adventurer.

Conall looked just as concerned about Elora when she carefully hobbled over, which made her feel a little less bitter about the whole situation. Braedon wasn't far behind her and she could tell that he was waiting to catch her or act as support if she stumbled or seemed like she couldn't go on, but that made her more determined to ignore the pain. It did not, however, stop her from cussing loudly when she took an open space at the foot of the pillar and leaned back. When everyone looked at her in alarm, she wordlessly grabbed the rock she had sat on and threw it across the cavern.

Amerise chuckled slightly, tilting her head. "Looks like there's still a rocky road ahead of us."

"Shut up, Amerise, that was awful," Elora grumbled.

"It wasn't one of my better ones," the archer admitted. "But that statement is still true. We will not have an easy time trying to move forward like this. We are all tired, or injured badly enough that our movements are severely limited or impossible."

"I can help all of you back to town," Braedon suggested, his expression still filled with guilt. "There are probably... better healers than me that could help you recover quickly. We could return, and hope that things go better the second time around. We'll be ready for what's here."

"Even if we are ready, that leaves time for Red Gale to discover that Lydia was killed and her harp was stolen. She'll know that it's a trap and won't bring Rose to the valley." Amerise was looking at the harp solemnly. She had removed it from her back so she could lean against the pillar, but it was still carefully and securely bundled so it could not be broken again. "And in the mean time, she'll likely have set a trap for the poor fools that attempted to trick her."

Elora chose to look up at the ceiling where small crystals glittered in the light the glowing mushrooms continued to give off. Though Amerise had valid points for why they couldn't go back to Carderock yet, Elora still would have chosen a warm bed in a house full of clerics over this cave. Even Braedon looked as if he was ready to give in, looking at his injured teammates with a weary expression. He could probably imagine the drain it would be on his energy to get them at only an acceptable point, let alone at their peak condition.

When Conall suddenly stood they all looked at him and Elora was surprised that she was eagerly waiting to see what he would do. "We can still save Rose. If the rain lasts all night, that means we have all night to recover. Amerise said that this cave should lead to where Red Gale and Lydia were supposed to meet. After we get to through this cave, it's just a matter of working as a team, right?"

Elora didn't have much time to muse over what Conall had said. It seemed that no sooner than he had finished talking, she and Amerise had both sat up and put their hands on the ground. A faint rumbling that over time was becoming distinct enough to make the rocks on the floor quiver and jump. While Conall scrambled to help Amerise secure the harp and get her onto his back, Braedon had hooked his arm under one of Elora's and helped her onto her feet. When they all stopped and looked at each other, Elora could tell they had all realized that they would be facing another minotaur.

"Conall, I'm taking a potion." She made the announcement as she was already digging into the pouch on his back and Conall looked both alarmed and confused.

"I can just use aura of healing." Though Braedon was just as puzzled, he didn't hesitate to help her take the cork out of the bottle.

"No, you're wasting all of your energy on that," she grumbled. She paused long enough to tilt her head back and down the potion with a grimace. "Conall can't fight, and I doubt Amerise will have an easy time shooting arrows from his back."

Braedon had narrowed his eyes and was doing his best to try and force her to look him in the eye. "Elora, you can't do this."

"I'm considered a prodigy for a reason," she said simply. The potion had already helped get rid of the soreness in her body and she stepped away from Braedon with a twirl of her staff, then jabbed it at his stomach. "We don't have many options, right? Whether I like it or not we have to be team players, and half of the team needs help getting through the cave. That will be hard to do with a minotaur running after us."

He rubbed his stomach in irritation but sighed and reached for his mace. "Stay close, Conall."

Elora watched them head off, quietly walking around the rocks in the center of the cavern as the second Minotaur approached. He wasn't any bigger than the dead one at her feet, which was a relief. She was already pushing her luck by facing this one injured, and she knew that when it saw her standing alone by its fallen comrade's body it would probably be pretty angry. Hopefully that body would also make it harder for this minotaur to move around because her limited agility was the only thing that would ensure her survival.

The minotaur was grumbling as he walked around the walks, looking down at her. "You did this alone?"

It was still a shock to hear the monster speaking to her, and its voice was very loud even when he wasn't yelling. Still she nodded. "A piece of cake."

The minotaur stood quietly for a moment, breathing deeply and snorting. Then, just like the minotaur at their feet, he bent his head low and roared as he charged at her. Her staff was still a bit flimsy, but she swung it in a wide arc, looking at the minotaur with her best scowl as the air was filled with the acrid scent of poison. She Blinked when the minotaur got close enough and was satisfied when he howled in pain; he had underestimated the poison and decided to try to charge through it and she could only hope that it hurt his feet enough that he'd be slowed down.

"I'm getting tired of facing weaklings," she taunted. The minotaur looked at her in anger and roared again when his face was hit with shards of ice. Elora's only strategy was to keep moving and hit him with as much as she could, so she immediately took off running. She heard his axe swing through the air and she quickly Blinked again. The ground shook as the axe smashed into the ground but she didn't stop; turning quickly, she used the most basic of her spells to constantly barrage him with balls of charged mana.

They didn't seem to do much to deter him and he charged at her again, forcing her to scramble for safety. He caught her with the grip of his axe and she was thrown onto the ground. There was barely enough time for her to roll out of the way and the axe smashed into the ground dangerously close. Desperate to put some distance between them again, she cast her fireball and scrambled to her feet as he took a few steps back and crashed into the rocks there. The roars were becoming so constant that she was sure she would go deaf.

Her body was starting to protest every movement again, but she ran as quickly as she could and only paused when there was plenty of distance and a large, dead body between them. If she could hit him directly with poison and her fireball then maybe she could kill him. Though, if she got that close and it didn't work, she'd be crushed or cut in half. The minotaur slowly circled around the body so he was standing across from her. When it looked as if he was going to charge again, she took a step forward. "Hey, hold still!"

He was so alarmed he actually did stop, and she quickly flicked her wrist. He yelled what she was sure was an insult when a mass of dark energy formed around him, and he roared in anger when it exploded and sent him stumbling back into the cavern wall. The whole place shook and she looked up in shock when rocks began to fall around her. She realized too late she had let her guard down; the minotaur charged forward, head low, and when he was close enough jerked his head upward.

Though it hurt she couldn't even scream. All of the air was knocked out of her as she took the brunt of his horns and was sent flying into the air. She gasped and tried to right herself so she could land on her feet, but all she could do was turn herself enough that she could cover him in poison from above. The minotaur swung his axe blindly in a rage, but she crashed to the ground behind him. The loud crack nearly caused Elora to pass out, but she realized that it hadn't been her body that had broken: her staff had finally given up.

"Worm, filth! You bitch!" The minotaur was still swinging his axe and if he turned around while she was still stunned on the ground there was no way she could survive. Focusing all of her energy she was able to use her shockwave and a burst of fire to get herself off the ground. This time the fire was close enough to catch and the minotaur made a terrible sound as it quickly spread up his fur. He turned, swinging his axe wildly; it caught her again, but this time she was fortunate enough to miss the blade and get thrown back only by the handle.

If there hadn't been a minotaur running wild in an effort to stop himself from completely erupting into flame, Elora would not have even tried to get up again. But she was flooded with so much adrenaline that getting up was easy, and while the minotaur was in a panic she disregarded her own safety and bombarded the beast with fireballs as she ran circles around him. Her hands were starting to sting and she could smell the fabric of her gloves starting to singe as she milked the spell for all it was worth.

When the pain finally got through to her she Blinked backwards out of reach, breathing heavily. The minotaur was still alive but almost entirely engulfed in flames and shrieking in such agony that it was starting to make her a little sick. She scowled, her orb floating beside her as she pressed one hand against her ribs and held out the other. "The only worm here is you."

She flicked her wrist again and watched the darkness expand around him again, before quickly contracting and exploding. The minotaur roared, falling to his knees with a crash and then collapsing. Just to be sure she walked closer and covered him with poison, watching grimly as the flames caught and rose higher. Her ears were ringing and her body was trembling but she stood and watched for quite a while before using a blanket of ice to extinguish the flames.

The smell of a burning body, let alone a burning body covered in poison, was awful. While stumbling in the same direction the others had disappeared to she knew that she would probably not be able to get the smell out of her nose for a very long time. When the ringing in her ears began to subside, she could hear Braedon's usual shouts and incantations. It was hard to tell from that if he was overwhelmed by whatever enemy he had found, but she still had adrenaline to burn off and jogged towards the approximate area of the battle.

It actually wasn't very far from where she had been. There was a smaller, inclined path leading away from the cavern the minotaurs were in. She could see the flashes of light from Braedon's spells, and now that she was closer she could hear the sounds of kobolds hissing and screaming; as she forced herself up the small incline she managed to see Braedon use his shield to knock a shaman into the air and, with a shout, finish the monster off with a bolt of lightning.

Conall was breathing heavily not too far away, Amerise perched calmly on his back; her hands were hanging loosely over his shoulders, her bow in front of his chest; all three of them were surrounded by bodies and a few of them had been struck by arrows. It seemed that Conall had been working hard to move quickly so that he wasn't overtaken, and Amerise had finally become desperate enough to try the quip about firing arrows while on his back.

When they heard her approach, Conall immediately rushed to her and both he and Amerise looked very relieved. "Elora! You're alright!"

"We could hear the whole thing, but it was so hard to tell what was going on. Conall very much wanted to go back and try to help you, but Braedon..." Amerise paused and looked back at the cleric, who was standing quietly. He seemed to be breathing just as heavily as Conall and his face was a bit pale as well. "He seemed to be running out of energy."

Braedon lowered his head slightly when he walked over, apparently not wanting to look Amerise in the eye as she scrutinized him. "It's hard for me to draw on any mana," he confirmed. "I should have enough to heal us all, but I will have to rest for quite a while before I can cast it again. You... don't seem to be feeling drained at all," he added, looking at Elora.

She sighed and pushed her hair out of her face. "I'm a prodigy for a reason."


	7. Sweet Dreams

**Oak and Holly**

_Sweet Dreams_

Braedon and Conall had immediately gotten to work on moving bodies after they had all regrouped, while Amerise and Elora did their best to make a small, but reliable fire with the scraps of wood they'd been able to find in the cave. None of them had been able to really cover their surprise that Elora had returned relatively unscathed from her fight with the minotaur, but Braedon had been the least discreet.

It wasn't necessarily anything he had said, since she had taken his initial reaction as a compliment, but Elora had already glared at him a few times for staring at her in shock since then. He didn't really notice how often he kept looking at her, but apparently it was enough that she finally threw her hands up in exasperation.

"If you want to say something to me, say it already!" she snapped. "Otherwise mind your own business."

Shaking his head, he quickly retreated with Conall. The warrior chuckled nervously as he looked over his shoulder where Elora was fuming. "You really get on her nerves, huh?"

"That's how it is for all clerics and sorceresses," Braedon grumbled. Conall had already bent down and grabbed one of the shaman by the arms and begun dragging him to the center of the cavern where the minotaurs' bodies were. The kobolds had been easier to move, so there was only two more shaman to drag along since Conall had grabbed one already. Braedon grabbed them by one leg each and dragged them after Conall.

"And that's why everyone is so surprised to see you two walking around together, right?"

The look the younger boy was giving him was a bit mischievous and he looked at him with a puzzled expression. "Yes. The Coven and the Order have a very tenuous truce, but it doesn't stop the groups from disliking each other."

Conall nodded, looking away from him. He casually tossed the body towards the pile when they got close enough, but Braedon walked ahead to drop them a bit more gently. The warrior cleared his throat and Braedon looked over his shoulder to show he was listening. Though, when he noticed Conall was trying to stop himself from smiling he wondered if he'd regret it. "You didn't seem to dislike her when you were staring at her earlier."

Braedon's eyes widened immediately in surprise, and Conall laughed. It seemed to be a natural assumption that people had been making since he and Elora were walking around together in Mana Ridge. Brother Germaine had assumed the same. But it was still a shock to him when anyone implied that he was looking at Elora as anything other than a teammate just because they weren't at each other's throats.

"I'm just teasing," Conall assured, moving his hands as if trying to calm down a riled up animal.

"I... really don't dislike her though. That doesn't mean what you were trying to imply is true!" He held up a hand when Conall looked shocked, hoping to stop any misunderstanding before it even happened this time. "She gets on my nerves, but I don't dislike her. That's all."

Conall went from shocked to puzzled again, lifting a hand as he gave a half hearted shrug. "So you're friends?"

Braedon wasn't sure how to answer that. They had never been on friendly terms and they didn't really know each other at all. But, he wasn't sure if saying they weren't friends was completely true. She had stayed by his side that day in Mana Ridge when she didn't have to, and she had admitted to his face that she didn't hate him. He had risked his life to try and save hers. Still...

"We just don't dislike each other," he decided. There was really no other way to describe it and he was relieved that Conall seemed to understand and accept that answer. Since no other questions seemed to be forthcoming, he turned his attention to the pile of bodies they'd amassed and quietly crossed himself; not for the sake of the monsters, but to let the Goddess know that he had vanquished evil in her name.

He tried not to think too hard about the fact that two of the monsters had spoken their language.

"There were some more barrels in here... I'm gonna check if they have any food in them," Conall announced. "We didn't really bring enough for camping out anywhere."

"If they're empty?" Braedon frowned and walked back over to him.

"Firewood, I guess," he shrugged. "But I'm sure they kept food in here somewhere though. They were probably gonna be here a while to keep people out. They weren't expecting people like us though!"

He could hear Conall chuckling as he wandered to a corner of the cave that they only noticed because it was filled with glowing mushrooms. He definitely didn't need any help looking at barrels, so Braedon had no reason to follow after him. He doubted that he had been gone long enough for Elora to have gotten to a point where she would tolerate his presence. He wasn't particularly in the mood for stupid bickering or being pelted with verbal abuse that he couldn't morally retaliate against.

He was tired. Too tired to even properly use the mana around him. And when he was tired, his patience was thin. So, like he always did, he prayed to the Goddess for enough patience to make it through the night before he even took his first steps back to the exit of the cavern. Conall hadn't returned yet but Amerise and Elora were both intently watching the fire they had made, and it seemed that every time it guttered or flickered they would hold their breath.

When Amerise noticed that he was watching them, she looked up with a solemn expression. "It has gone out several times already. The wind coming through the cavern is strong here because of the rain. I believe that Elora and I are now contemplating how best to murder either the wind or the fire. Isn't that right?"

Elora was grinding her teeth and wouldn't even glance up when Amerise looked at her. "Everything. I am going to kill. Everything."

"Right. Maybe you can offer some insight into how best to kill everything, Braedon." She smiled in amusement despite her serious tone. The cleric wasn't really sure how he should respond since he could tell that Amerise was probably already included in 'everything' and it would be very easy for him to be on that hit list if he wasn't already there. Instead he felt it would be better to just consult Elora as an expert in all things flammable.

"Where should we move the fire?" he asked. Elora looked exasperated but not angry which he supposed was a lot of progress made in just a matter of seconds.

"We either deal with the smell of corpses or we stay here and appreciate the fresh air." She looked at him. Judging from her sour expression she was going to throw a fit if he suggested they move towards the center of the cavern.

"So there's nowhere to move it to."

"Exactly. If it wasn't so exhausting I could certainly conjure a fire that never died," she grumbled. "But seeing as you can barely draw on any mana at all, _one of us_ has to be able to use their magic by the morning. Wasting it all on a campfire wouldn't be worth it."

Braedon frowned but instead looked around the area they had chosen to use as a campsite. They were rather close to the cavern's opening and though the rain had slowed down to a point they weren't afraid to be washed away, the wind hadn't really improved. He supposed part of the problem was that this area was also concave. He knew that behind him was higher and even ground, because that was where he had killed all those monsters. Naturally there was a bit of blood there. But he had outright refused to sleep there when the discussion had first been brought up.

"If we can clean the blood..," he hesitated when Elora's eyes seemed to light up in victory, "and you will allow me to cleanse the place of any lingering evil, then perhaps we can move back up this incline and build the fire there."

"Do whatever helps you sleep at night, holy man. I'm just glad you're finally coming around to my side on this. I told you it was a bad idea to try and camp out down here. I don't know why none of you will listen to me, even after all I did."

"I'm sorry," Braedon sighed.

Amerise nodded in agreement. "Yes, I'm sorry as well. If we are all team mates than everyone's opinions should be weighed equally. We haven't been fair to you."

Elora was completely skeptical of both of them. She hunched her shoulders and narrowed her eyes as she walked up the incline and away from them, preparing for someone to make a snide comment that was not going to come. Amerise smiled, gesturing to the fire and successfully regaining his attention.

"I'll put this out. Perhaps, if your gloves are strong enough to withstand the heat in the kitchen, you can carry the wood to the new site?"

Braedon was completely baffled when Amerise started laughing. They weren't anywhere near a kitchen and it wouldn't have made much more sense even if they had been. At least Conall wasn't here to claim she had a good sense of humor because clearly her sense of humor was worse than Braedon had originally thought. Since she was completely distracted he took it upon himself to put out the fire.

"That was a good joke, right? Hehehe." Amerise crouched slightly to look him in the eye, since he had crouched down to gather up the wood they had been burning. He glanced around in a bit of a panic, feeling his face heat up slightly the longer she looked at him. She had very, very blue eyes.

"Ha, yes," he said finally. "It was."

He thought he could hear Elora moaning about being surrounded by idiots, but he couldn't tell Amerise that it had been absolutely terrible while she was looking at him like that. And she looked very pleased to hear that he had enjoyed it. Now he just had to hope she didn't catch on that he had lied to her, and the best way to make sure that didn't happen was to look somewhere else.

Luckily there was a loud thud that distracted him as well as Amerise. Conall was rubbing his forehead, resting one hand on a barrel that he had apparently carried over."I found the food—Elora why are you freezing the ground?"

"So I can melt it and instantly have enough water to wash away the mess Braedon made here," she replied simply. She was very carefully and methodically walking backwards, moving her hand in sweeping motions to make sure the entire area was covered. He was still surprised that she was able to use her magic without the help of a staff, since it seemed to be a necessity judging by how she immediately bought one the last time it had broken.

"Man, don't your hands get cold?" Conall seemed to be completely fascinated with magic because he was watching her work as if he had never seen anyone use it before. Elora only shrugged, obviously tolerating questions from Conall better than she would have if Braedon had asked her. He couldn't help but feel, again, that this was obviously the perk of not being a cleric.

"A little. Great sorceresses like Lady Kasarana and Master Cynthia can use magic like this without any side-effects... and it would be as strong as the magic I can do with a staff," she muttered. "Ideally, I'd be wearing gloves."

"Well, you can use my gloves," Conall offered. He had already moved to take them off when she shook her head.

"Special gloves," Elora clarified. She paused to admire her handiwork and then with a smile set it all on fire. It wouldn't be as effective as scrubbing the place down, but as water started to run down the incline and pool at Braedon's feet he could see even in the dim light that it was red with blood. Luckily he had picked up the wood they had been using by then, but when she glanced down where he and Amerise were he couldn't help but think that she had melted the ice without warning on purpose.

Amerise easily jumped over the flood of water and blood, landing at the top of the incline completely unbothered; though he had watched her fight before, and he assumed Conall had as well, they all were surprised by how agile she was. Elora did not seem to be particularly impressed with the front flip she had added in, narrowing her eyes when Amerise walked past her. Braedon wasn't sure if he should enjoy Elora's bitter expression or not, but she was already focusing her attention back on the ice and making sure it all melted.

Braedon waded through the puddle collecting around him and headed up the incline, charred bits of wood in hand. Elora unsurprisingly ignored him melting the thicker chunks of ice with bursts of fire until there was none left. He couldn't exactly set the wood down on damp ground though. "Can you dry it with your fire as well?"

She paused and he only caught a brief glimpse of her glare before there was a burst of flame that would have definitely burned his eyebrows off if he had not scrambled back. "What a stupid question. Arcane magic has more uses than you seem to realize," she snapped. "As if I wouldn't have thought of that already, anyway."

If there had been more room she probably would have stormed away from him, but with Conall and Amerise blocking her escape to the center of the cavern and a pool of bloody water in front of the exit of the cavern, her only choice was to turn her back to him. He was too surprised to do anything but drop the wood on the ground and he decided that it was best he keep focused on the task at hand. His thoughts needed to be clean and good if he was going to cleanse the place.

It was not a particularly arduous process; most of it involved praying and carefully moving around the area as he did so. The others stayed out of his way, which he only knew because he didn't once run into anyone. He knew that Elora was probably watching out of annoyance, but she of course wouldn't be able to see the holy energy that he was filling the area with. He didn't know if all Sorceresses were non-believers, but they certainly were not as receptive to the Goddess as a cleric.

Or rather... as a good cleric. Brother Cedric certainly hadn't been receptive to the Goddess. He abruptly stopped, looking at the faint blood stain that he was standing over. There was certainly no holy energy here. Was forsaking Her really so easy? Was there really something else that was more reassuring than the Goddess's love?

"Do you wanna eat something now, Braedon? It's not bad, considering it was for monsters."

He hesitated when Conall spoke to him; he hadn't realized until then that he felt rather sick and he took a few moments to regain some composure before turning to him. They were all sitting on the ground nearby. No one had built a fire because he had still been walking around, but it seemed that what Conall had found consisted mostly of dried meat anyway so there was nothing to cook.

"Maybe we interrupted him," Amerise mused.

"No, I finished." His voice sounded strange but the only one that seemed to notice was Elora, who was staring at him rather intently.

Conall clapped his hand on his knee before then stood up with a sigh. "Alright. Time to start a fire then."

Amerise was holding out food for Braedon when he approached and he seemed to be the only one that was surprised when Conall suddenly hefted the barrel above his head and walked away from them. "What are you—" before he could finish, Conall threw it as hard as he could at the cavern wall. The barrel, now that it was shattered into pieces, was clearly empty.

"This should be enough for a pretty big fire, right?" Conall was casually snapping some of the bigger planks of wood, or the pieces that were still stuck to the metal bands. Elora shrugged, then fell into a discussion about where the best place to start the fire would be, so clearly he had done an acceptable job.

Braedon didn't pay any of them much mind until he felt a tiny nudge at his leg. Amerise was looking up at him, reminding him that he hadn't even sat down and she was still patiently holding his food. He sat down, offering a flustered apology which she quickly turned down. "It looked like you were concentrating very hard on your previous task. It's easy to become a bit lethargic afterwards, so I understand."

He ate quietly and watched as Conall and Elora carefully built the fire in the center of the area they were taking over. Judging from the way they were talking, they figured the area that was surrounded by stalagmites would be the ideal place to sleep. The fire would be at their feet, close enough to keep them warm now that it was larger.

"No one's hair will catch on fire if someone rolls over," Elora reasoned.

Once the fire was made they all moved and settled in, sitting with their backs against the cavern wall. Now that they were sitting by a warm fire, it became more apparent just how cold and damp they all were. Elora's mood in particular seemed to grow very sour. Too sour, it seemed, for her to even bother with complaining about sitting next to him, but her dark expression was certainly hint enough she wasn't happy about it. Braedon wasn't sure she'd be any happier sitting next to Amerise, so there was no suggestion that the archer move from his side to sit between them. Besides, as Conall pointed out, he could now easily heal the two members of the team that still needed the most help.

"If he even has the energy to do it. Maybe you should just focus on one of us," Elora grumbled. He assumed that meant he should focus on Amerise which he did rather gladly. Since he didn't have to cast the aura across as wide an area he was able to sit silently for the most part and listen to the others discuss when they should go to sleep, when they should wake up and what, if anything, they could rest their heads on. Since he was completely focused on his magic, he had no comments to add; the most he could do was simply follow along with what everyone else did, so when everyone else began to lay down, he did as well.

Using healing aura was rather relaxing after the dark thoughts he had been having earlier; this was, if nothing else, proof of the Goddess's blessing. No one else could give someone the power to heal the wounds of others, as far as he was concerned. Focusing on this also helped him ignore the fact that Amerise had to keep rather close for him to continue healing her. This he was able to do until at some point, he wasn't sure when, he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

By the time Braedon found himself squinting up at the vaulted expanse of rock above him, the fire had diminished to embers; it was doing little to warm or light anything now. He wasn't completely sure why he had woken up since he couldn't recall having any nightmares—which was honestly a blessing—and he wasn't that cold despite the dead fire. He knew that he was the only one awake, however. He was starting to feel sore from sleeping on a stone floor though; he had probably woken up because he was uncomfortable and unable to move because he was trapped under everyone else's weight.

At some point during the night Elora had put herself at an angle, stretching her legs over his and using Conall's stomach to support her head. Conall had gotten close enough that Braedon's upper arm was caught under his elbow; Braedon had fallen asleep with that arm on his chest, and his most alarming discovery was that Amerise's hand was on top of his. He could vaguely remember her putting her hand there when she had rolled over and thanked him for healing her, but apparently that was also how they had fallen asleep.

Staring up at the cavern ceiling in shock, Braedon could feel his face slowly heating up in embarrassment. What if the others woke up before she did? What if she woke up and realized he was awake? Maybe she was already awake? He glanced down at her and confirmed that no, she wasn't awake. They were all still sleeping, oblivious that they had fallen asleep holding hands. The last thing he wanted was for Conall and Elora to get the wrong idea and constantly tease both of them for it.

What would Jacob say to see him getting worked up over this?

When all he could picture were lifeless eyes he turned his focus back to Amerise's hand, but the image of Jacob's face was persistent. Everywhere he looked it seemed those eyes were staring back at him. His forehead began to break out in a cold sweat and his heart felt like it was gripped by the familiar panic from his nightmares, even though he was awake. It took him a moment to realize that Amerise was sitting up slightly, looking at him with a groggy expression on her face. "—little tight."

"What?"

"Your grip on my hand is a little tight," she repeated gently. Braedon lifted his hand up in alarm, mindful that Conall was still using his arm to rest his own on. He couldn't even remember moving his hand to hold hers but Amerise didn't seem to be bothered by it. "A nightmare?"

He hesitated, but he couldn't think of any other way to describe what had upset him. "Yes. Sorry for waking you."

"There are a few more hours before the sun rises... you should try to get more sleep." Amerise smiled slightly as she lay back down on her side, bending one arm so she could rest her head and extending the other so she could hold his hand again. "Since it is a custom to hold hands when one is worried about nightmares, it is okay if you hold mine. That is the least I can do for you."

He was in a stunned silence for quite a while, and when it had finally crossed his mind to tell her she didn't have to, she had already fallen back asleep. Clenching his jaw slightly, he wondered if he should simply try to free his hand from hers. Though he supposed it wouldn't matter as long as no one else woke up before-"Tch!"

It was a struggle to only flinch as sharp pain raced up his leg. He wondered if he had been bitten by something but after a few moments he came to the conclusion that it had felt more like someone had kicked or stepped on him. Alarmed he looked at his legs as best he could, but the only thing there were Elora's... oh.

"Flirt when Conall and I don't have to listen to it."

He closed his eyes, wishing that he could cover his face somehow. Jacob would surely be laughing at him if he was here.


	8. Stranger Danger

Oak and Holly

_Stranger Danger_

There were a lot of things in the world that Conall knew he had no clue about. He didn't know anything about prophecies from Sages. He didn't know much of anything about the Ancients. He barely knew anything about elves other than how to spot one, which really a three year old could do. He couldn't really name many books either. Really, it was always a surprise to people that he even knew how to read and write at all. But, how did they think he or any other warrior could finish a commission if he couldn't even read what it was?

It didn't bother him really, the lack of book knowledge. He had knowledge about everyday life, about useful things that helped him survive. He could track an animal and identify plants; he could build a shelter and make tools; he always knew what time it was and when bad weather would be coming in. These were things that Amerise could also do, and he guessed that was why he liked being around her so much; it was also why they were the only two that had naturally gotten up at sunrise even though the sunlight could not reach into the cave.

Even if it could, they still wouldn't have been able to see it. Right now he was staring out at thick fog and wondering if Red Gale would still come if it didn't burn off soon. He definitely wasn't going to wait hours when Rose had already been captive for—what was it? Two days? Despite thinking he always knew what time it was the days since Rose had been taken by Red Gale had been a bit of a blur.

"Amerise, how many days has it been?" he asked.

She looked uncertain, her gaze briefly moving up to the ceiling and then back to his face. "If I am recalling all of these events correctly, it has been three full days since Rose was taken… and since we lost Timothy. Today would be the start of the fourth day."

Conall looked up at the ceiling as well, feeling the familiar, bitter anger that often swelled up in his chest when he thought of what had happened to Timothy. It had been cruel and unnecessary. He did not doubt that Red Gale could recognize that the stuttering militiaman had not been any kind of threat.

But, Amerise was right: they had spent the rest of that day mourning Timothy, saved Braedon and Elora the day after that, and yesterday they had all turned into drowned rats.

And during that time Rose had been at the mercy of the harpy that murdered Timothy. She had suffered a lot since his arrival in Ironwood… and every time he came close to finally helping her, someone else took her out of reach and further away from her family. He was determined to make today the day that he took her home and fulfilled his promise to Lily and Harold. And he would kill Red Gale on behalf of Timothy.

"You're scowling again. You'll give yourself another headache." Amerise's smile was small, but Conall still chuckled. She had a way of cheering him up, whether she was telling her awful jokes or just smiling like she was now. "Are you angry?"

The question made him pause. Was he? Yeah, judging from the knot in his chest and how tense he felt, he was. "I know I shouldn't be. I already mourned Timothy and all, but thinking about Red Gale and what she did really pisses me off. I want to beat the sh—crap out of her."

"Don't let that anger change you, Conall." She moved forward with a serious expression, briefly touching his arm in reassurance. He frowned and wanted to insist that wouldn't happen, but the noises of someone waking up distracted him. It sounded like it was Braedon judging from the sighs and yawns. When they craned their necks to check the cleric was already sitting up, rubbing his head and pushing his white hair out of his face. He squinted in their direction as if he wasn't sure what he was looking at.

"Good morning, Sunshine!" Amerise smiled and raised a hand in greeting while Conall laughed, trying to muffle the sound with a gloved hand. Braedon didn't seem to be a talkative guy in the morning since he only nodded then looked away. Of course, there was a high chance that he was too embarrassed to keep looking at them, especially after what had happened a few hours ago.

Admittedly, Conall didn't know much about what had happened and he didn't actually care about it either. He vaguely remembered waking up because of the two talking, but it wasn't until Elora had kicked Braedon that Conall, who had been jarred by the movement, woke up enough to notice that Braedon was holding Amerise's hand while she slept. His only reaction had been to lie back down and get comfortable again.

That wasn't to say that Conall didn't like Amerise. He did. He liked her a lot. However, even though they had only been together for a short time Conall had learned early on that Amerise loved to joke around, and he had a feeling that this sometimes extended into her pushing the boundaries of humans with strange phrases and actions. He was sure that when she told one of her jokes she turned her head slightly to the left, and she had also done that a few times while saying things that might be considered flirty when they had been a two-man team.

Or maybe he was looking too far into it all of this and she really did have no idea that holding hands was something a couple did. Amerise was another addition to his "I have no idea about any of that" list.

Braedon was still trying to tame his bedhead—something Conall had just shrugged and ignored and Amerise had solved with a ponytail—but Elora was still asleep. Curled up with her head buried in her arms, she looked surprisingly comfortable on the cold, rocky floor. Maybe she was one of those people that could sleep anywhere. Braedon was looking at her and clearly wondering how dangerous it would be to try and wake her.

Conall waved a hand. "We can wake her up after Amerise plays the harp. She killed a minotaur on her own, she can sleep in if she wants."

It didn't seem like he really supported that decision since he was hesitant to stand up and join them, but he clearly wasn't interested in arguing or disagreeing. He was more interested in the fog, gesturing to the gray expanse outside the cave. "Are we going to wait? I can barely see past the cave opening, and I don't think that a harpy would be able to fly well through this."

"If Red Gale lives in this area, she would be able to fly here in the fog with no trouble. Even if she doesn't live here, she'll find her way, a harpy's eyes are very sharp," Amerise reasoned. Conall was grateful she had spoken up first because how sharp a harpy's vision was in fog was another thing that he did not know much about. If he didn't know that Amerise had been out in the world for much longer than he had, he would have pretty felt pretty bad about himself.

There had been no harpies for him to fight at home, so there had been no chance for him to truly learn just how well they could see. Of course, his father wouldn't have taken that as a reasonable excuse for his lack of knowledge… he should have gone hunting for harpies, challenging new enemies every day especially since he had no ties anywhere. A perfect chance to learn and—someone was talking to him.

"Huh?"

"When should Amerise summon her?" Braedon repeated calmly. "Are you alright?" It was a constant surprise to see how calm and kind the cleric was off the battlefield; he did not seem at all like the man that had mutilated nearly every enemy that crossed his path.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Conall waved a hand, looking back outside the cave. "We're not waiting for the fog. I've made Rose wait for nearly three days already."

"It was not just you." Amerise reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. "We are partners. I failed as well, but we can make up for it. If you're both alright with skipping breakfast, I'll get the harp right now."

Though she had looked away from him in favor of looking at Braedon, her hand remained. Conall was very tempted to touch that hand, or maybe hold it, but instead he stared at her for what was probably an absurdly long amount of time; long enough to watch her walk away to retrieve the harp and realize that he had completely missed Braedon's response and that Amerise must have taken the dumb smile on his own face as a sign of agreement.

Braedon was watching him stare, and he cleared his throat in embarrassment when Conall made eye contact with him. "Conall, if what happened last night… maybe upset you—"

"Huh? No, man, it's alright." After a quick glance proved that Amerise wouldn't be in earshot for a bit, he continued: "I'm not really bothered by that at all. Amerise is just that kind of helpful person, you know? Not that we're actually together or anything, just, even if we were I wouldn't be upset. She's been like that with me, too. I think that's just how she is."

There was a look of disappointment on Braedon's face which honestly surprised him. It hadn't even crossed his mind that the reason he had so vehemently denied interest in Elora was because he was interested in Amerise. Conall automatically looked at her, wondering if the interest was actually mutual. Despite the obvious conflict here, he felt bad for suggesting to Braedon what had happened hadn't meant anything and if Amerise hadn't been returning he would have tried to say something encouraging.

But when Conall looked at Braedon again he didn't look bothered in any way, so it was possible he had been mistaken about the whole thing.

They both watched Amerise inspect the cave, the harp poised in her hands and ready to be played. She shuffled around a bit, occasionally looking between the ceiling and the cave opening before she finally seemed satisfied and stopped. It was very rare that Conall saw Amerise look serious, but in the few moments before she began to play, her fingers barely touching the strings, her expression was very solemn.

The melody she played was short and simple, but her hands moved so smoothly that Conall knew there was no way he could have done the same. His hands were better suited for carrying weapons and maybe throwing large rocks. Or punching someone in the stomach.

While the last notes hummed through the cave, they stood and waited and pretended that they could actually see anything through the fog. But when the minutes passed and nothing happened Braedon took it upon himself to sit with Elora, who hadn't woken up even though the harp had been rather loud; if they saw or heard any sign of Red Gale, they would alert him and he would wake her up.

"Hopefully she won't burn me alive."

"Keep your shield handy then," Conall suggested. He didn't really think that Elora would set him on fire, but considering she had kicked Braedon rather hard last night it was probably best to have his shield ready to deter her. She'd probably be even more annoyed then she was last night, since he still suspected that there was something going on between the two of them; if that was true she would not be happy to see him after he had been supposedly flirting with Amerise.

Amerise had wrapped up the harp and carefully tucked it safely away behind a rock, and was standing near the mouth of the cave with her bow ready. She caught his eye while he moved to stand on the opposite side of the opening, and nodded her head slightly.

_We'll be ready. We can do this._

Conall nodded slightly in return, looking out at the fog. He could guess that it had only been about six minutes since Amerise had played the signal, but the fog was already starting to dissipate. He could see the tops of the trees, and the shape of an unusual structure in the distance. There was no way it would be difficult to spot a bright red harpy, no matter what direction she came from.

He couldn't remember the last time he had felt truly anxious to kill someone; probably never actually. But now his stomach was in knots and his heart was pounding, and the only thing he could think to do to relax was to draw his sword and hold the grip of it so tightly his fingers started to go numb; eventually he relaxed his hold and let out a long, slow breath, most of the anxious tension leaving with it.

Nearly ten minutes had passed since they had given the signal when Amerise waved a hand to get his attention. She pointed to her ears and then to the foggy expanse above them; there was no sign of Red Gale yet, but the sound of large wings flapping above them was easily heard in the silence in the valley. With the fog clearing he didn't want to step too far out of the cave and risked only a few small steps and a lean forward so he could get a better look at the sky.

It wasn't clear enough for him to see the color of the sky yet, but the fog couldn't hide the bright red of the harpy's feathers. It hadn't crossed his mind that by the time he noticed Red Gale she would be close enough that they could hear her talking—as well as someone replying to her; surely the harpies would be able to hear his voice if he spoke too loudly to get Braedon's attention, who wasn't even looking at him to notice any signal; it wasn't necessarily a surprise that the cleric was more focused on prayer than what his teammates were doing, but it was definitely inconvenient right now.

Conall liked to think of himself as a patient person. But since he was already on edge, he grumbled and cursed as he picked up a loose rock and chucked it in Braedon's direction with unnecessary force. He was already startled by how close the rock had come to his head, but he jumped when it hit the cave wall behind him and sent debris clattering everywhere.

It was hard to tell if Braedon was just alarmed or insulted, but Conall impatiently gestured outside to keep him on track. He could tell that the cleric wasn't entirely happy with him either way, but he nodded and carefully reached over to pat Elora's shoulder and wake her up.

He heard Elora and Braedon grumbling back and forth, but he had already turned his attention to the more pressing matter outside; he could hear Red Gale clearly now, complaining loudly about the meeting and Lydia.

"She couldn't have waited until later in the day? I don't even see her. She probably played the harp and went back to sleep, the bitch. Just because she's a dark elf she thinks she can act like a princess. Go tell Queen Elena that precious Lydia abandoned her post. Maybe that'll put her in her place!"

They could see that Red Gale was accompanied by three white harpies; one swooped away from the group while Red Gale swooped downwards, carelessly tossing Rose towards the ground for another harpy to snatch her up. Conall nearly ran out of the cave when they threw Rose again but Braedon, who he hadn't even realized had rejoined them, grabbed onto his arm.

The fog had cleared enough that they could see the strange structure in the distance; he had no idea what it was meant to do, but all he knew was that Rose was unconscious and suspended in the center. The harpy had probably thrown her there. "What is that thing?"

"That's an Ancient device." Elora was looking at the scene groggily, idly patting her hair into a ponytail like Amerise had. "I don't know what it's for, so don't bother asking."

"How do you even know that much, then?" Braedon muttered.

"The Ancients are very important to the Coven, unlike you idiots at the church."

"Would you two knock it off, there's more important stuff to worry about right now," Conall hissed.

"Something is happening," Amerise muttered, effectively stopping the argument before it escalated any further. The harpies seemed to be very excited, hovering near the device and laughing; the fact that Rose was suspended in the air hadn't changed, but it seemed the cause of the excitement was a blue glow that had appeared around her.

"She's an Ancient! With Lydia slacking off we can take all the credit for bringing the Ancient to Queen Elena!" Red Gale was almost crowing in excitement but the significance was lost on Conall, and when he looked at the others they seemed to be just as baffled.

"The Ancients are gone. I don't understand," Elora grumbled.

"They're going to move Rose again if we don't hurry." He was gripping his sword too tightly again, and the scowl on his face was likely going to give him a headache. Elora didn't look too thrilled about being brushed off, but she and Braedon were looking at him with the reluctant respect a default leader seemed to deserve. "I want to take down Red Gale myself."

Amerise nodded slightly, drawing back her arrow. "We will take care of the other two. Two birds with three stones!"

"Oh for the love of Altea," Elora groaned. Amerise didn't wait for her to finish her complaint, releasing a carefully aimed arrow at the wing of a white harpy; it tore through easily and she fell to the ground, screeching while her companion hovered nervously over her.

When Conall stepped out of the cave, Red Gale bristled in anger. "You! You're the pest from Ironwood! I thought for sure you would have been dead by now."

Conall had never been one to trade quips in a serious fight. Maybe if it was a fight against a rival he'd be more willing to trade taunts, but Red Gale was definitely not his rival; it didn't seem right to make light of a battle where he intended to kill his opponent in cold blood. Red Gale sneered when he raised his sword, and he dashed forward only when Amerise ran out of the cave.

Red Gale was caught off guard by how quickly he moved as well as Amerise's appearance, and her screech of anger when his sword slashed into her leg nearly covered his furious battle cry. He couldn't hear what Amerise was doing, or Elora, or Braedon. The pent up anger he had tried to reign in was coming out in angry screams that were likely to make his throat bleed.

He had swung his sword enough to get some glancing blows and once Red Gale darted out of the way he had a moment to realize that attacking out of anger wasn't effective. Red Gale had circled out of his reach and he briefly saw Elora and Braedon working closely together and Amerise doing her best to avoid shooting Rose with a stray arrow.

The harpies seemed to be displaying the same amount of caution: Red Gale hadn't thrown a single blade his way because Rose was now behind him. He took a deep breath; there was no blind rage behind his attacks when he charged at her again but his pace did not change. Every kick and swing of his sword was carefully planned to deal the most damage he could and he thought he might be able to defeat her until she suddenly shot forward and knocked him backwards, her claws tearing into his chest as he fell.

He rolled out of the way of her blades, completely startled to find that he was looking at Elora's feet once he stopped. She put a hand on his head when he tried to stand, casting her fire spell above his head. When she blinked out of the way Braedon pulled him to his feet and ran after her; if he hadn't had a firm hold on his sword he would have been completely disoriented.

The gashes in his chest stung, and his breath was a pained gasp when he swung his sword to knock one of the approaching harpies away from him. It was a surprise when Amerise was suddenly using the harpy as a spring board, somersaulting in front of him and turning around to shoot an arrow straight through her heart.

Amerise looked like a mess, panting as she lowered her bow and looked around. "Braedon's lightning is making me run around a bit more than I'd like," she gasped. "It's hard enough to keep track of a harpy without that to worry about."

"I'll cover you," Conall offered, swinging his sword to get used to the sharp pain it caused to shoot across his chest.

"No, focus on Red Gale. I got it locked down." She winked before darting away, flipping and jumping and firing arrows on the way.

Red Gale was currently trying to kill Braedon and Elora the same way she had killed Timothy, the cleric rather resolutely taking every blow with his shield while the sorceress ducked behind him and used fire to keep the other harpy away from them until Amerise arrived. Conall was quick to join them, swinging his sword to knock Red Gale back with the shock wave that came with it.

He was dimly aware of Braedon swinging his mace, and was a bit alarmed when he suddenly felt a shock of electricity run up his legs that stopped him in his tracks. "Shit!"

"You hit Conall!" Elora's voice was coming from somewhere behind him. "I told you not to use that anymore!"

He seemed to be too surprised to form an actual response, but with Conall stunned and everyone wondering if he was alright, Red Gale took the opportunity to try and get rid of them all at once. Conall wasn't sure what was happening until he was knocked over by a strong gust of wind and tossed into the air. Being thrown around like a rag doll was starting to make him sick, but something latched onto his shirt and he was rolling across the ground, his sword flying from his hands.

"I'm going to throw up."

"Elora?" Conall blinked, the ground swaying uncomfortably beneath him. "What—"

"I Blinked us out of a twister."

He grunted in pain when she suddenly elbowed him in the chest, muttering an apology as she tried to right herself without falling over. Considering that they had been in the middle of a fight, things were eerily quiet. Once he was able to sit up again he took in the state of things; Amerise and Braedon seemed to be in the same condition he and Elora were in and both of the harpies were barely hovering, their clawed feet brushing the battlefield, while looking off into the distance.

It was enough that she had kidnapped Rose and murdered Timothy, but now she was acting as if the fight was already over; his jaw was clenched so hard he was surprised that he didn't crack his teeth, but it took a lot of effort to get onto his feet and reach for his sword without falling back to his knees.

"Red Gale!"

She was completely startled by his shout and though she moved backwards she was too stunned to get away from him. He kicked her hard in the chest and as she fell back he lifted his sword above his head and brought it down with a scream, stabbing her through the chest. She was staring up at him, eyes wide as blood bubbled out of her mouth and Conall didn't look away.

Relief flooded him, taking a deep breath as he pulled his sword out of her chest and the ground beneath her. She had suffered the same way Timothy had, and he was a bit conflicted about being happy for making someone suffer like that. But it was still quiet. There had been one harpy left, one harpy that should have been reacting to her dead leader.

Before he could even turn, he felt an uncomfortable chill run up his spine. The birds in the valley suddenly taking to the sky in panic. Amerise and the others had flocked to him and they all stood closely together as a figure in black jumped over the expanse of the cave and landed on the ground in front of them.

It was a tall man, probably as tall Braedon, wearing black armor. The stranger paid no attention to any of them, instead focusing on the last harpy that was trying to escape; he lifted a hand, the harpy falling beyond the cliff's edge. Conall hadn't seen any attack. Was he an ally?

Conall twisted his hands on the hilt of his sword, a cold sweat slowly dripping down his neck. He wouldn't be terrified of an ally. The others were tense, barely breathing, and instinctively bunching closer together. When the man began to walk towards Rose, Conall stepped forward. Quite a few hands grabbed his shoulders and arms.

"Hey! Who are you?" The man paused to look at him, and though Conall could feel the blood draining from his face, and Elora and Braedon were both hissing at him to be quiet, he rushed forward. Breaking free of their grip had been easy, but continuing forward when Amerise screamed after him was not. "Get away from Rose!"

He was ready to swing his sword, but he didn't even make it close enough to reach him. The man impatiently swept his hand and Conall was sent flying back by the shock wave; dirt flew into the air, blocking his view and making him choke. Once he could see again, the man already had Rose in his arms and had turned towards the cliff. Conall leaped to his feet, his sword on the ground going unnoticed. The man briefly turned to look over his shoulder at him, not at all worried about being charged at, and made the small jump over the edge.

Conall would have jumped after him if Braedon hadn't tackled him to the ground. "No! _No_! _Damn it_!"

Not again. Every time—every single time he got close—someone else took her out of his reach. Braedon was pushing himself up from the dirt and Conall followed suit, holding his head in his hands as he swore angrily. "Fuck! Why can't I save her?"

"We still have a chance. He didn't kill her. We can still save her," Amerise pointed out. She crouched next to him, an arm around his shoulders. "We will save her, Conall. None of us were expecting to face someone that powerful."

"I think it's best we return to town," Braedon suggested carefully. "We need to rest and hopefully Deckard or someone else will know more about that man."

The walk back to town was just as quiet and miserable as the walk through the rain to get to the valley; the blood from his wound was starting to make his skin feel strange and he still felt the hum of electricity running through his nerves from Braedon's friendly fire. The others weren't really better off.

Braedon's hair was matted with blood after he had taken a talon to the side of his head, and he was helping Elora limp along on what she suspected was a twisted ankle from the rough landing from the twister. Amerise was trying to smile any time he glanced at her, but she had a newly split lip and only succeeded in grimacing.

"You're not just a regular archer, are you Amerise?" Elora grumbled finally. "I've never seen an archer jump around and kick as much as you do."

"Nope! I'm an Acrobat," Amerise acknowledged.

"But even though you're already that skilled, even you were afraid of that man," Conall frowned.

"Yes, I was." She rubbed her hands together and grimaced, a sincere response that didn't come from the pain of trying to smile.

"So even if the rest of us became stronger and were allowed to choose a specialization like you were, we still wouldn't be strong enough." He scowled, and the others looked at him with varying amounts of concern. No one disagreed with him. None of them could claim that the next time they ran into that man, no matter how many people were with them or how strong they were by then, that they could win.

They had all be terrified.

Fergus had a very downtrodden and battered group of adventurers on his hands by the time they reached Crystal Stream. Conall had a serious headache from scowling; Amerise had smiled too widely in an attempt to cheer him up and split her lip even further, which only made his scowl worse; Elora was blinking back tears while Braedon apologized repeatedly for stumbling and forcing her to put weight on her foot.

Fergus didn't seem to notice. He tipped his hat back and his face lit up, forgetting to be inconspicuous completely. "You're alive! You're all alive!" He shouted, meeting them half way. "But… where's Rose?"

"We killed Red Gale but… a man in black armor took Rose." Conall's voice was thick with disappointment and the others sighed and shifted, looking at their feet. Fergus looked alarmed, grabbing Conall by the shoulders.

"You faced The Black Knight and lived? I can't believe it..," he was looking at all them now as if he was looking at a group of ghosts.

Braedon tilted his head, stepping forward with Elora. "The Black Knight?"

Fergus nodded his head, letting go of Conall and taking a step back. He adjusted his hat over his eyes to try and look mysterious again, but the mood had already been ruined. "We don't know too much about who he is. He suddenly appeared not long ago, and destroyed one of the air ships on his arrival. All we do know is that he is incredibly powerful and dangerous.

"He's not the only strange person to come to Carderock. A little girl with a-a robot has been running around here for a few days now. I think she was looking for you, actually. She kept asking where the adventurers that killed Lydia were."

They were all baffled then, and spoke in chorus: "A robot?"

"She just went back to town not long ago, I'm sure you'll find her right away. She carries a strange weapon I've never seen before." Fergus touched the brim of his hat again. "I think you'll find that you'll all be a lot more popular in town from now on."

No one was sure if they were supposed to be happy about that or not, and they returned to town with a bit of trepidation. They got quite a few looks because of how ragged they all were, but quite a few people were exclaiming to their friends that they had survived, just as Fergus had.

Only two people seemed to be comfortable approaching them: two warriors had moved to block their path, standing side by side. The two looked like complete opposites: one blonde haired and one black haired; one wearing orange while the other dressed in blue. Even their eye colors were opposite, light brown and blue. Conall had the feeling that they had chosen the color of their clothes based on their eyes, and he would have laughed if their smiles hadn't been so unsettling.

The blond of the duo spoke up first. "So you made it back in one piece. Pretty impressive for a bunch of nobodies."

"Are you kidding me? Does it look like we want to listen to you talk shit right now? If you don't get out of our way I'm going to set you on fire," Elora snapped. Braedon had to tighten his arm around her waist when she tried to take a step forward, but he seemed just as annoyed.

"Sorry. Marcus doesn't know how to give an honest compliment. I'm Kieran." He did look sincerely sorry, bowing his head so his eyes disappeared behind shaggy black hair. "We just wanted to let you know how grateful we are for what you've been doing to help Carderock Pass. If you ever need anything, we'll do our best to help."

Conall glanced at Elora when Kieran straightened and smiled, and noticed that she had turned a faint shade of pink. "You can get out of our way," she grumbled. The two obediently stepped to the side, watching them as they walked across the bridge to get back to Germaine's.

"Creepers!" Amerise exclaimed. Everyone found themselves grumbling in agreement, even though it wasn't exactly the right word to be using. They were all so bothered by the encounter that they hadn't noticed that someone had snuck into the herd until they heard an unfamiliar voice pipe up.

"Yeah, you better watch out for those two. They're definitely bad news."

They yelled and stepped back, noticing that the intruder was a young girl with huge glasses, big braids, and an even bigger weapon strapped to her back. Conall was rather sure that it was almost as tall as she was.

"I've been looking all over for you guys! The name's Paralee!"


	9. Time Keeper

I have no idea how this chapter got so long, but I hope you all enjoy it! Thank you to everyone that's reviewed and been so encouraging, and thank you to everyone that checks out my story. It makes me happy to check the stats and see that the reader count has gone up. :)

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**Oak and Holly**

_Time Keeper_

Paralee was a lot like a puppy. A puppy that they were all very wary of, but couldn't spend too much time trying to shake off because there were more important things to focus on; no one in Germaine's seemed to question why she was following them inside, and Conall had gone so far as to ask one of the clerics if they knew who she was after she had disappeared up the stairs with the others. He was surprised when the cleric admitted that he did know her fairly well.

"She showed up a day or so before you four did. We couldn't leave a child out in the street, so we took her in. It seems that she's an orphan, she has no family to speak of here or anywhere else." Conall became rather uncomfortable at the mention of her being an orphan, and the cleric seemed to notice and shared his expression of empathy. "Stories like hers are becoming more common every day. Many of the younger boys here are also orphans, and have chosen to dedicate their lives to the Goddess."

Judging from the look on his face, the cleric rather desperately wanted to try and convince him to follow the same path, but wasn't sure how to breach the subject. Conall decided it was better to not let him think about it too long. "Paralee mentioned that she had been looking for us."

He nodded his head. "Yes she heard about your accomplishment at Assassin's Den, and a few of us informed her that you were staying here as well. She wanted to meet you as soon as she found out. Funny how fate works, isn't it? Even though she was staying in the same home, she was never here while you were."

"You don't find it strange she's carrying around a weapon as big as she is?"

"Paralee is a very strange child, but I believe she is a child that is to be pitied. I would be lying if I said we were not hesitant about letting her into this place, but it would be depressing times indeed if we could not trust a child." Still he sighed heavily, clearly troubled. "It is a shame that she is so adept with that weapon of hers. She must have been taking care of herself for a very long time."

Conall could definitely relate to that, though being an orphan probably would have been easier than the situation he had been put through. There was a lot of frustration and pressure that a person had to deal with when they had one parent alive and quite possibly a bit off-kilter. Then again, he was the one wishing he was an orphan, so that didn't say much about his mental state either.

He was dimly aware that the cleric was asking if he would be happier resting, but he shook his head. "I'm alright. I was hurt worse than this yesterday, actually! Braedon is really good with that healing spell."

The cleric was obviously alarmed that he had looked worse than he did now, because he was very aware that he was completely dirty, scraped and bruised on top of looking exhausted and downtrodden. "Indeed?"

"I actually wanted to ask you about some guys that are here in town. Marcus and Kieran? Do you know them?"

Conall watched as his face darkened considerably, crossing his arms as he tried to compose himself again. He couldn't manage a smile, though he had attempted, and settled for looking at him solemnly. "There are many rumors about those two. I'm not one for gossip, but what I know for a fact is that they both grew up in this town and they are very compassionate and helpful towards other residents."

"Yeah? Paralee told me that they're bad news."

They observed each other while many awkward seconds went by, Conall's expression sincerely curious and his companion's severely reluctant. He cleared his throat a few times, watching fellow clerics walk by. "You'd do better to not pay attention to a young girl's gossip, especially when she's just repeating unfounded rumors. If you're curious about them, I encourage you to get to know them."

Since it was very obvious that the man wasn't eager to have a conversation with him anymore, Conall quickly agreed he would get to know them, thanked him for the information, and walked upstairs. Of course he had to seriously wonder about those two now that it seemed there were very serious rumors about them in town that had been floating around before Paralee had even gotten here.

It was not at all a surprise to find her sitting in the bedroom with the others, but it was certainly a surprise to see her looking at Elora's injured leg just as seriously as Braedon was, which left the sorceress in a state of mortification. Conall wasn't sure what she had to be embarrassed about since her legs looked perfectly fine… if he ignored the obvious bruising and swelling on the injured leg anyway.

Braedon seemed reluctant to say much with Paralee hovering so close, so he simply muttered that it was obvious much more than her ankle had been hurt. Amerise had shuffled close to Conall in the mean time, nodding her head towards the small table in the room; their guest's weapon lay there, as bizarre looking out in the open as it had been on her back.

To their surprise Paralee was happy to explain everything about it to them when she noticed they were looking it over. However she talked so quickly, and about things none of them had ever heard of for such a long period of time, that they were all in various stages of agitation with no end in sight. Conall wished he could understand what she was talking about. Judging from the look on Elora's face she wished the kid's vocal cords would disappear.

It was a relief when Paralee left the room at the request of Braedon, who had asked her to find Germaine so that he could give his opinion on the injury. Surprisingly the cleric was the first to let out a sigh of relief, probably because Elora was too busy burying her face in her hands to muffle screeches of frustration.

"How can one kid talk so much?" She looked distressed before looking at Braedon. "I'm sure you were the same way, now that I think about it."

"I was actually rather quiet as a child. You talk just as much as I do, so why is it just me, anyway?" he grumbled.

Elora didn't look as if she wanted to answer, settling for scowling at him while he looked up at her from his seat on the floor, bemused and a bit irritated. Conall was mentally preparing himself to stop another argument when Germaine arrived, looking alarmed and frazzled, which only got worse when he saw the state all of them were in.

"Thank the Goddess, I just heard—the Black Knight, of all people—quite a miracle you're alive, thank the Goddess; truly, thank Altea that you were not hurt worse than this." He crossed himself quite a few times. So many times that even Braedon, who prayed enough for all of them, looked uncomfortable but muttered similar sentiments and crossed himself as well.

"I feel like I should join in," Amerise whispered, watching the movements rather closely.

"Please don't," Conall muttered in reply. Elora's face looked as if she would have vehemently agreed with him that no one else should join in on the madness, since she seemed to be rather alarmed just by how quickly Germaine was approaching, removing his hat and taking Braedon's place before any of them could really react.

It had crossed Conall's mind that in his flustered state he might actually make the injury worse. Germaine seemed able to fall back on experience though, and though he asked Braedon rather emphatically how they had managed to get away with only one of serious injury, he was very careful and methodical in checking Elora's injury.

During that time they were all rather silent and Conall watched as she became more and more miserable with embarrassment as time dragged on. She was practically withering in front of them, which was a surprise since he hadn't really taken her as the type to get so anxious just because people were looking at her. By the time Germaine stood up again she was slumped over in the chair and covering her face with one of her hands. He of course mistook her humiliation for pain and was given a very short answer when he asked if she needed some medicine.

"Just tell me what's wrong with my leg. You spent enough time with your hands all over it to know by now, right?"

If Germaine was the least bit bothered by what she said he covered it well; Conall was embarrassed on his behalf, and it seemed like Braedon was too. Or maybe he was just angry with Elora for implying something like that.

"You've sprained your ankle, definitely. It is possible that you've done the same to your knee. Unfortunately until your ankle is healed I can't be sure if anything is fractured, but there is no significant break." He paused to replace his hat, looking very solemn. "Elora, I have to insist that you stay off that leg entirely for a few days. Or, at the very least, don't put much weight on it. That shouldn't be difficult, since you have plenty of people to help you around."

He was surprised at the uproar the diagnosis caused; they were all alarmed that Elora wouldn't be able to help them find Rose and they weren't sure how they would do it without her, which was a complaint that, to Conall's surprise, Paralee also took part of. Elora was more concerned about the fact that she'd be stuck in bed with only clerics to help her if the others left her alone.

"I'd much rather go back to Mana Ridge and suffer Cynthia's wrath," she grumbled.

"Taking you back to Mana Ridge would be out of the question," Germaine scolded. "That is too far, and you'd make the injury worse; if you're not careful you'll be struggling with that leg for the rest of your life and you're not even an adult yet."

Elora was subdued almost immediately after Germaine had raised his voice, and he excused himself after asking for Braedon's assistance downstairs. The rest of them remained in an awkward silence until Braedon returned and it was decided that Elora would go to Adeline's and stay there, and if the elf allowed it the rest of them would follow suit.

It was through all of this, with Braedon helping Elora there and Amerise going to consult with Adeline about how many guests she would take, that Conall found himself alone in the room with Paralee, who smiled and moved in front of the door with no intentions of being subtle. If Conall hadn't actually wanted to talk to her he would have just picked her up and moved her out of the way, but as it was he smiled in return.

"So you were looking for us?"

"Yes, I was! I want to help you and the others, in any way I can, so that you can save Rose." Paralee looked surprisingly solemn. "After Deckard told me what was going on, I knew I had to try."

"How many other people has Deckard told?" He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a bit disgruntled. He didn't want to start running into strangers trying to save Rose and getting in the way. "Not those two from earlier, I hope."

"No, he didn't tell them, but that doesn't mean they might not know." Paralee practically skipped closer, sitting down in a chair. She adjusted her glasses, sighing. "To be honest, I had already heard a bit about the circumstances, and I overheard him saying that he was considering sending people to the Valley of Mourning. Naturally I pestered him about it because I wanted to go, but Kieran and Marcus have been keeping tabs on me, so they may have overheard."

Conall was a bit surprised that they would keep tabs on a child, even a child with a gun. He sat down in the only chair left, trying to read her face as best he could while they talked. "Is that why you said they were bad news? No one else will tell me about them."

"I'm sure part of it is that I've been nosing into their business," she admitted. "However, that's only because other adventurers warned me to be cautious about taking too many commissions in the area. 'Certain people aren't too keen on outsiders,' they said. It turns out those people were Marcus and Kieran."

It was hard to tell why she was so openly talking about all of this with him, since she barely knew who he was, but she appeared very honest and serious… and a bit anxious as she adjusted her glasses and continued.

"It turns out that there are a lot of rumors, which the long time residents of this town ignore, that they're directly connected to the disappearances of quite a few adventurers. Naturally I tried to find out more but was shut out at every turn. Like I said, no one wants to talk about it. When I started doing a lot of commissions myself they approached me themselves, like they approached you. I turned them down, and Marcus was pretty angry about it."

"Are you sure you weren't looking for us so we could help _you_?" Conall was incredibly alarmed by what she was telling him. He knew he should probably be a bit skeptical, but if he ignored her and she disappeared he wouldn't be able to deal with the guilt. "I know you've got a gun and everything but this sounds pretty serious and you're just a kid."

"I'm more worried that they might try and weasel their way into your group. If they try and take you down from the inside, you won't be able to help Rose!" She was so agitated her glasses slipped down again and she sighed as she adjusted them. They seemed too big for her. "I think we both know that it wouldn't be too hard to do that, even I can tell you're not a very tight knit group."

He was baffled. He didn't know what to make of this conversation; he had no idea why Paralee was so passionate about saving Rose, he didn't know why she was so passionate about making sure _they _could save Rose, and he couldn't imagine that two country warriors would try to break apart their group and prevent her rescue, no matter how suspicious they were.

With a shake of his head he stood up, dragging his chair back to the table he had taken it from. "If you're just trying to help us than you don't care if I mention this to the others, right? Shitty—I mean—bad teamwork or not—"

Paralee laughed, crossing her legs at the ankles. "You don't have to watch your language around me just because I'm small. I can assure you that I've heard much worse! Shitty would be a good way to describe the relationship of your team, it's painfully obvious how disconnected you all are."

"Even me and Amerise? I mean…" he felt his face grow warm. "Well I just figured we were better at working together than the other two, they're always arguing and stuff. Amerise and I don't do that."

"I think," she paused briefly to adjust her glasses again, though this time it seemed to be more for show. "That becoming a group of four has put a strain on all previous relationships. If you're going to make the most of your recuperating time then you need to try and air your grievances."

Conall was aware that he was looking at her with a blank expression, especially when she cleared her throat and explained: "You all need to get together to talk when you're not fighting. As friends."

"I understood what you said the first time," he grumbled. "I don't think we have any problems to talk about."

"Well if you didn't you'd be the perfect team!"

That kind of logic was hard for him to argue with because as far as he knew it was perfectly sound; a team made of people that hated each other would have problems, and though he didn't think any of them truly hated each other there were obvious tensions of some kind between all of them that could be distracting.

He sighed, holding up his hands in defeat. "Alright, you made your point. I'll try to get everyone together so we can talk."

"Actually, I was wondering if you could—well—if it was at all possible that I could talk to you and Elora." She was hesitant in asking, her hands fiddling with one of her long braids. "I know you're like the leader and I think that there are important things I should tell you that Elora would be able to understand."

"I—sure, I mean, if Elora is up to it. I think I get along pretty well with her so she'd be okay with it, yeah," he reasoned. It very briefly crossed his mind that this would leave Amerise and Braedon alone but he wasn't one to dwell on jealousy. If it happened, it happened. "But we all have to get cleaned up first, at least."

"Oh, of course! I have to repair my cannon, so I'll stay in here. You can come and get me when you're done. I should be finished by then since I've found some useful parts that I can make work with the mechanics—"

Sensing another long discussion about things he didn't understand, he was quick to interrupt her before she could get too far into it. If she was offended or surprised Conall didn't know because he was quick to leave, even though he wasn't sure where he'd go once he'd escaped. Running into Braedon on the landing was fortunate then, since he had been talking to Germaine beforehand.

"Yes, Brother Germaine did mention that there were clothes for both of us. He recommended that you speak to Chandler, a warrior across the way, to see if he had any proper armor to spare… he was very distressed to see that none of us had any and that we still intended to chase after the Black Knight. He would rather we not go at all, especially you and Elora."

"What? Why?"

"I suppose because you're both so young. I didn't think Elora was that young to be honest, but he insists she is. He must know about her somehow." Braedon looked a bit embarrassed that he had overestimated Elora's age, though Conall wasn't sure why. Especially since he insisted he wasn't interested in her in any way.

"I just assumed you knew her age. I mean I don't know it either, I figured she was older than I was at least. I guess I'll just ask," he shrugged. "I wanted to talk to her later anyway."

"About what?"

Conall was surprised by how quickly he had asked, considering he hadn't expected him to ask at all. "It's kind of my fault she's hurt, so… I figured I should at least apologize. Maybe offer to help her around."

"You might end up regretting that offer. I don't know how many sorceresses you've known but they have a tendency to be prima donnas."

Conall laughed. "I think Elora is a nice girl. Really! I talked to her before when we were alone and she was very attentive and friendly."

Braedon looked a bit skeptical. "I suppose that's because you aren't a cleric."

"You sound kind of bitter."

"I am not bitter."

They looked at each other for a moment, Braedon's demeanor very bitter indeed and Conall struggling not to smile too much at his denial. "Maybe we should just get cleaned up and find new clothes."

"I'm really not bitter," he insisted, walking downstairs ahead of Conall. He couldn't help but laugh then, deciding to drop the subject before he actually made him angry. Getting clean in a crowded house was, as it turned out, infuriating enough. The bath seemed to be constantly occupied and he and Braedon eventually settled on using a small wash tub full of water in an empty bedroom.

Conall, who was mostly used to being alone, was a bit hesitant about the whole thing. Braedon on the other hand seemed to be unbothered by it completely and seemed puzzled that Conall was hesitant at all.

"What's wrong? We agreed to this because we didn't want to wait all day to get clean."

"It's kind of awkward, isn't it?" he felt very distressed and it didn't help that Braedon was staring at him as if watching him undress was a normal thing. "This isn't really something two guys should be that comfortable with right?"

"I've always been in crowded homes like this since I went to boarding school when I was young. Seeing another male without clothes on is not something I care about… since that's not," he explained with his voice even. "What I'm attracted to."

The warrior coughed but got the hint: there was no need to worry about any uncomfortable leering. In fact Braedon on the whole ignored him, only looking at him when Conall asked about what boarding school was like.

"I would not wish it on anyone else, and certainly if I have children in the future I will never think of sending them to one." He looked agitated, but continued. "It was a strict and unloving place. Whether or not I would have been happier at home, though, I cannot say. I suppose my step-mother would have been just as unbearable."

Conall was actually rather pleased that Braedon felt comfortable enough to share something this personal with him. "You lost your mom too, huh? Did you know her?"

"No, I did not. Did… you know yours?"

"Yeah, I did."

The cleric looked surprised and then a look of pity crossed his face, but the topic was quickly dropped. Neither of them spoke again until they were getting dressed and then it was about their plans. "I have to return to Adeline's to properly bandage Elora's leg. Hopefully they're done bathing by now, it's better I start healing her injuries as soon as possible. You wanted to talk to Elora, right? We'll go together."

"Paralee wanted to go with."

Braedon looked as if he wanted to protest but he finally shrugged. "If she doesn't talk about cannons then I suppose it doesn't matter if she goes with or not. Why is she so interested in us though?"

"To be honest I still don't really know, but what I do know I'll explain to you later."

As it turned out, there wasn't much time to talk to Braedon or Amerise about what Paralee had told him. Elora and Braedon had started bickering again almost immediately after they had walked into Adeline's, and having no interest in arguing Braedon had left as soon as her leg was bandaged up for stability. Conall didn't have to look at Paralee to know that she was watching this all unfold with a knowing expression in his direction.

Elora seemed to notice as well. She crossed her arms, scowling from her seat in Adeline's living room. "Oh, what are you smirking about, you little brat?"

"Conall and I had just been talking about how Braedon shouldn't argue with you so much."

Amerise, who was in the kitchen with Adeline, gave Conall a skeptical look and all he could do was shrug and helplessly hold up his hands. It seemed to make Elora happy though and she sighed and tried to get comfortable. He didn't think that would be too hard, since Adeline's home was more comfortable than Germaine's. The entire first floor was open, making the space less cramped, and it was quiet and calm.

Elora didn't look very happy but she at least seemed less irritable and didn't mind Paralee taking a seat next to her. "I've been waiting to talk to you all day!"

The sorceress sighed, resting her chin on one of her hands. "Oh, really? I'm flattered. I hope it's not about cannons."

Conall spared a cautious glance at Amerise and Adeline, but they were wrapped up in talking and apparently cooking. He walked over to where the other two were sitting as Paralee shook her head, her expression serious.

"No. I want to talk to you about manipulating time."

Elora spared her a short laugh. "I'm not a Mystic. Anyway, you're not a sorceress, it's not like you could do anything with what I tell you."

"I think you know more about it than you let on!" Paralee insisted. "I just wanted to ask if you believe that, theoretically, someone could manipulate time well enough to travel through it."

"Every Mystic can learn to stop time surrounding her—"

"What, really?"

"Conall, I get that you're from the middle of nowhere but please—"

"Oh yes, it's a very complicated magic that takes a lot of practice to master. The spell can slow down others within a set area to the point that it seems like time has stopped," Paralee explained.

"_Seems_ like? A mystic can also speed up time, you know!"

"Ha, well, it's more that she can speed up a regenerating process—"

"Any manipulation beyond that is strictly forbidden, and only the greatest sorceresses would even be capable of understanding a spell that powerful."

"I know that. You're one of those sorceresses!"

Conall had been watching the bickering in confusion, but with Elora stunned into silence he finally spoke up. "Uh, Paralee, what are you asking about all of this stuff for?"

Paralee became solemn, looking at Amerise and Adeline with some reservation. They seemed to be ignoring them since the bickering started again and she looked at Conall and Elora earnestly, her hands clasped in front of her as she whispered: "Because I'm from the future. _I've travelled through time_."

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Well, you know the drill by now, right?

There might be a new bonus chapter this week, because I'll be hard at work planning out chapter ten and beyond and I can't guarantee a new chapter will be out by this coming weekend... but I'll do my best to get chapter ten out soon. :)


	10. Grim Discovery

**Sorry for such a long gap between updates! **Writing this chapter was a bit difficult because I had to do a lot of planning, since there are more characters now. I also started up at college again, and while I didn't fully load up my schedule, updates may continue to be a bit slow. I am always working on the story though, so there will always be an update on its way eventually! Again you can check my WordPress to check the status of the story or for any bonus chapters.

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**Oak and Holly**

_Grim Discovery_

Conall was in a fairly good humor as he followed Paralee's bouncing steps into the wilderness that sprawled beyond Carderock's barricade. Though she had so far only talked of things he didn't comprehend and made wild claims that he supposed any child would be prone to making, he did enjoy her company.

Elora did not. She had responded coldly to Paralee's claim of time travel and all of her efforts to explain herself, growing more and more irritated with each word.

"I don't think it's completely _impossible_ for a machine to use magic, but you talking about stuff I don't get isn't convincing me that it's really true. Especially since _no one_—not even Kasarana herself—would think of using magic that way, and I've never seen a machine that special."

Conall had immediately jumped on the child's suggestion she show them the technology she had brought with her so she could prove that such a machine could exist. He was mostly hoping to avert a literal explosion, because it would certainly require them to go outside where the sorceress couldn't follow. It'd give her a break. "You can show me, and I'll report it all back to Elora."

Now they were deep in the woods, and Elora was sulking in Adeline's living room—though she had put her palms together in thanks as he had ushered Paralee out the door. He really didn't know if it had been the claim of time travel, apparent abuse of magic, or Paralee's rapid fire chatter that had been the problem.

"Elora really takes that time magic seriously," he muttered.

Paralee regarded him with some confusion. "Of course she does. The sorceresses are very serious about all of their magic, especially with how it's used. It's caused them trouble in the past; I really should have been more sensitive about the subject."

His pace became a slow drag, the realization that he _really_ didn't know much about anything dampening his enthusiasm. Even Paralee, years younger than him, knew more about the people around him. "I had no idea."

"Really? Well," she sighed, stopping and adjusting her glasses, "Don't feel too bad. Not many people do, unless they're older, or study history—I fit into both of those categories, by the way."

Conall fought every nerve in his face so he wouldn't smile sympathetically at her announcement of being older. "So what happened?"

To his surprise she shook her head and crossed her arms. For a moment he felt like she was the taller one, looking down at a child that had said something unreasonable. "I can't tell you too much. They've had trouble since the Astral Coven was founded, and it was exacerbated by someone misusing their magic. The same thing may happen again, since even the monsters are starting to steal and use their magic."

For not wanting to tell him too much, she certainly had talked awhile. "You're being kind of vague."

She pursed her lips, drawing pinched fingers across them like a zipper. "If you want to know more, why don't you just ask Elora! She's a sorceress."

"Ask—ah, that's right, I forgot to ask how old she was," he grumbled, rubbing his forehead. "Paralee could you remind me when—"

"She's sixteen. Why did you want to know?"

Conall lowered his eyebrows in confusion. "Uh, Braedon wanted to know is all. How did you…?"

She put her hands on her hips, her chin lifting. "I told you, I'm from the future! Did you forget why we came out here?" There was a very brief pause where he may have been able to answer her, but she took a deep breath and shouted: "Alfredo!"

There was a strange creaking and groaning, a large figure crashing to the ground in front of her. Just as quickly as it had raised its fists Conall drew his sword, but there was no attack from either side. It seemed that they were both thinking defensively, and they mutually lowered their guard and—well could he really say the thing was staring at him?

He remembered, belatedly, that Fergus had mentioned a little girl with a robot had been running around; he knew Paralee was the girl, so certainly this must have been the robot. A strange metal machine, shaped like a man and painted yellow beneath the grime of age and nature and smoke, which seemed to constantly issue in short spurts from its shoulders.

"This is my butler and bodyguard, Alfredo! I made him myself, when I was younger," Paralee announced proudly, patting one of its hulking arms. Conall wasn't sure if he could have done anything to hurt this thing if it had decided to attack him. Its hands looked like it could crush a boulder into dust.

"Conall? What do you think?"

"A butler… I guess that's… why it has a bowtie, huh?" He really had no idea what else to say. He hadn't even realized that he'd taken note of the metal bowtie screwed into its chest until he'd mentioned it out loud. "Can it really see me? Its eyes are just lights or something, aren't they?"

Paralee laughed. "Oh no, he can see you! He can see, hear, and understand, just like a real person! It's pretty complex technology, and I'm lucky he survived the crash. I have enough things that I need to repair, including his storage system."

"Crash?" he echoed. "What crash?"

Alfredo slowly eased himself to the ground, the creaking and clanking becoming more of a quiet hum as the smoke slowed down. Paralee was looking at him very solemnly now. "I traveled to this time, mostly on accident, in a machine, like I told you earlier.

"It malfunctioned, and crashed in the mountains outside of Mana Ridge; I believe part of that malfunction also caused me to physically regress to a thirteen year old body. The technology was always a bit experimental, it even changed my hair from blond to—this," she sighed and lifted a braid to display the strange gray color it was now.

"What were you even doing in that thing then? You're—" he stopped himself from yelling that she was a kid, but given her scowl she had guessed where he had been going, but she seemed to appreciate how alarmed he was over her safety.

"Barring a sudden fire, I was perfectly safe inside. And I was perfectly safe outside, too, between Alfredo and my cannon." The hulking robot lifted his head slightly at the sound of his name, slowly looking at Conall because that's where Paralee was looking; between the silent guardian and the huge weapon, he couldn't deny that she looked well protected.

More well protected than he had looked at thirteen, he was sure of that. There was no way he'd be able to suitably describe Alfredo, or the appearance of Paralee armed to the teeth. "Elora really needs to see this. I'll carry her out here, if I have to," he decided.

"I'll wait here. There aren't too many monsters in the area, because of Alfredo, so I'll be perfectly fine."

He completely agreed that she would be fine even if the place was swarming in monsters, but he felt uneasy when he sheathed his sword and left her alone. No matter how much she insisted that she was an adult, Conall still saw a child, and leaving a child alone in the dark woods left a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

The worry slowed him down, but he found himself wondering if that was for the best; he hadn't gotten far before Paralee was calling for him, and if he had been walking at a normal pace he might not have heard her at all. When he rushed back he found Paralee unharmed, but frantic.

"What's wrong? I thought—" He was hushed by a wave of her hand, which she then used to grab his wrist and drag him into the woods. "Paralee, tell me what's… wrong."

They both stopped, looking at the bottom of a steep incline where two bodies clearly lay. Conall reacted immediately; he easily scooped up Paralee and slid and jumped down through the mud and rocks and leaves, cursing the entire way down. Paralee only made a few sounds of surprise, holding onto her glasses so they wouldn't fly off her face, and she scrambled over to the bodies as soon as she could jump out of his grasp.

Conall stumbled after her, jarred and unsteady from the trip down. She had crouched down next to them, checking for some signs of life, but before he could even ask Paralee was shaking her head. "They've been dead for a while," she muttered.

Though there was no point in sticking around Conall crouched down next to her; they were looking at the bodies of two boys. Covered in blood and dirt and debris, it was hard to tell how they had died. He supposed that they had been two adventurers, judging from their clothes and bags. He couldn't guess how old they were exactly, but they were certainly older than he was. "Where are their weapons?"

"That's certainly a good question. I would imagine they're lying in the mud somewhere or they were stolen." Paralee's expression was grim. "I've seen these two before. They warned me about Marcus and Kieran."

"What should we do? Take them back?" he stood slowly, drawing his sword and looking around the area in case whatever had killed them was still lurking nearby. Paralee didn't seem quite so worried, and she examined the bodies almost leisurely, taking quite a long time. "Are you listening?"

"I'm listening. I'm also thinking, so just wait a moment."

Conall fell silent, feeling for the second time that he was definitely the child in this situation. It was not his first time coming across a body, but he was not quite as calm as she seemed to be; in fact his heart was racing, so loud he could hear it in his ears. He didn't know why she had called him back if she wasn't scared, and he asked her as much.

"I am scared," she admitted. "I know I have Alfredo, but if something happens and I survive, who's going to believe me when the only other witness is a robot that can't speak? No one thinks they can do any wrong."

"So… you think this is Marcus and Kieran's doing," he realized. "And if they attacked you I would be there to confirm it."

"And keep me safe, I hope!"

Though Conall didn't feel comfortable with the whole situation, he took offense to that. "Of course I'd keep you safe. That's why I'm a warrior, that's our job."

Paralee looked up at him, adjusting her glasses with grubby fingers. "For some of you, yes. But there are many warriors now whose interests are not protecting those that need it. I think we should tell Deckard. I'm sure he was the one that sent them out here."

He watched as she stood up, giving the bodies one last furtive glance. "Why are you so sure it was them?"

"I don't know if they murdered them in cold blood… but I do believe that they were somehow involved. Everything I've heard and know indicates that they're involved," she explained. Her stubborn demeanor stopped Conall from arguing, and with Paralee clinging to his back and complaining about his sword, he headed back up the incline.

He knew that he looked like a complete mess, but no one in town seemed to pay it any mind; it was normal for an adventurer to get dirty and tired. It seemed it was also normal for an adventurer to disappear and never return. Deckard was on the whole unmoved by their news, which angered him as much as it did Paralee.

"Young adventurers get in over their heads and die every day… there's not much we can do about it. Even the most experienced adventurers in the league have met the same fate. It's a grim occupational hazard, and a reality we have to learn to accept."

It was obvious that Deckard had learned to accept it a long time ago, but that wasn't good enough for Conall, who felt his stomach twisting in rage. "But you sent them out there! Shouldn't you at least bring their bodies back?"

"I can't risk more lives to bring back the dead, and I don't recommend you risk your lives for it either!" He sighed, looking down at them both sympathetically. "I've done my best to stop the younger adventurers from going out there, but if a youth wants an adventure they'll find a way to have it. You two shouldn't have been out there at all, especially you, Paralee."

For all her talk of being an adult, Paralee shrunk beside him and Conall looked away from Deckard's gaze, overwhelmed with a strange sense of guilt. He should have brought the bodies back, for one, but he was sure the only reason that Paralee had been allowed out of the town was because he had been with her.

"It's getting late. Get on back to Germaine's, and stay out of trouble, alright?" Deckard frowned at both of them and they obediently turned and left. Conall didn't know what he could say to Paralee, so they walked in silence. He couldn't imagine what was on her mind, but he knew that two adventurers they had left behind were on his.

They both barely noticed Braedon approaching them, until Conall walked right into him. Braedon put a hand on his shoulder, looking between both of them with genuine concern. "What's wrong? Did something happen?"

Conall was reluctant to answer because Paralee seemed to be, turning and looking away from Braedon and mumbling something that neither of them could make out. Without warning she suddenly left, heading back inside Germaine's without so much as a glance. Confused, Braedon turned his attention fully to Conall, who sighed.

"We found two bodies," he admitted quietly. The cleric's alarm was only obvious in his eyes, and he quietly dropped his hand from his shoulder. He seemed to be looking for the bodies in question, baffled.

"Is someone going to get them?"

He shook his head, and was a bit pleased that Braedon seemed just as upset. The older boy turned to look at Germaine's with a serious expression. "I'm sorry that Paralee had to see that. And you. If I can do anything… I don't know what, but if I can—"

"Can I talk to you about something?" Conall wasn't sure why, but he felt that if he was going to talk to anyone right now, it should be Braedon. He nodded in agreement, and followed him to a more quiet area near the barrier, away from anyone that could overhear them.

"What is it?"

"Paralee thinks that Marcus and Kieran were involved… I think they've been threatening her." Conall waited to see Braedon's reaction, and though he certainly became more tense he waited for him to continue. "She knew the two adventurers we found. They warned her to be careful, and then they end up in a ditch in the woods."

"Do you think she's right to worry? Have you heard anything about them yourself?"

He hesitated, and shrugged. "I tried to ask one of the clerics about the rumors about them. He insisted they weren't true but… if Paralee thinks she's in danger I can't ignore it. There are other adventurers that warned her about them. That has to mean something."

Braedon was quiet for a long time, his head tilted downward in thought. Finally he looked back up at him. "I agree. If Paralee feels she's honestly in danger, I will help you keep her safe as best I can… and the rest of you, if it comes to it."

Conall was grateful and he smiled and relaxed; though he still wasn't sure how he felt about Braedon's fighting tactics, he was relieved that they were on the same side. Out of battle Braedon turned out to be a reassuring and warm person. "Oh, I found out that Elora is sixteen. Same as me!"

It seemed that he didn't know how to really take this information, his expression a strange mix between surprise, disappointment, and disinterest. "Is that so? I suppose like you she also considers herself to be pretty old," he mused. Conall only laughed, welcoming the distraction from the woods that loomed above the barricades, and trying not to wonder what else had been left inside it to be forgotten.

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This is only the second time that any of my chapters have clocked in at only 2k... they're usually twice as long!


	11. Blue Lips

Oak and Holly

_Blue Lips_

Though no effort had been made to recover the fallen adventurers, news about them had spread quickly over the next four days. It wasn't a particular surprise to Braedon, who knew that even in cities as large as Saints Haven rumors and news could travel quickly. Though Carderock Pass was certainly bigger than Mana Ridge, it was still contained within the barricades, and there was little else for people to do but risk their lives outside those barricades or talk to each other.

It was through this efficient rumor mill that Braedon and Conall learned that the two adventurers had no family in Carderock Pass, and had been on a simple commission at the time. At Conall's prompting, they also learned that they had never seemed to interact with Marcus and Kieran.

The town as a whole seemed to think the Black Knight was responsible. Paralee and Conall insisted that he wasn't responsible. Braedon was not so sure.

After praying for the dead with the other clerics, he had on the whole stopped thinking about them. There was nothing left to do about it because they were in the Goddess's hands, and with no further sightings of the Black Knight there were more pressing matters going on inside the town that he kept himself busy with.

Elora's injury was of course one of those matters, and after finding her too disagreeable to be around when she was awake he started going to Adeline's early in the morning when he knew she would still be asleep. This gave him the benefit of speaking to Amerise without Conall or Paralee talking excitedly about what he considered to be conspiracy theories.

Amerise was just as skeptical about their theories about Kieran and Marcus, but she also agreed to keep an eye on them. "Don't take your eyes off the chickens just because you can't see the fox!"

However she seemed to be a bit worried today and when he prompted her to share what her worries were she looked at him seriously for probably the first time since they had met. "Adeline heard from Chandler that one of his students has gone missing. They were last seen with Marcus and Kieran."

"No one's doing anything?" Braedon frowned, resting his hands on the small table in the kitchen.

"Chandler has already looked for them. Apparently he's quite upset. Marcus and Kieran insist that the student had gone back ahead of them, and they assumed he was already in town when they returned." She tapped the toe of her boot against the floor. "I didn't want to alarm Conall, but they did come here to try and speak to Elora and me. It seems the fox is keeping a close eye on the chickens, doesn't it?"

He tried not to look too upset, but on impulse his hand had moved to the empty belt where his mace would have been. "What did they want to talk to you two about? They know Elora is injured."

"They wanted to know how much we knew about the Black Knight. Kieran in particular warned us against going after him, saying that the two adventurers that had died had been trying to find the Knight's whereabouts." Amerise tilted her head. "What do you think of it?"

"What did Elora think of it?"

Her lips twitched into an amused smile. "I was told to ask you about it, so it seems like you both are using me as a messenger. I don't know why you two don't hike up your trousers and cross the bridge! What are you even arguing about?"

Braedon looked at the table as if the wood grain was the most interesting thing he had ever seen in his life. "I don't really know. Elora doesn't need a reason, other than the fact I'm a cleric, to be combative with me. It could be anything. Maybe I looked at her the wrong way, or didn't notice she changed her hairstyle."

Amerise considered this for a few moments, before shrugging. "Perhaps you need to do some star searching."

"You mean soul searching," he corrected gently. "About what?"

"I don't know if you're supposed to be asking someone what to search for," she mused, resting a finger on her lips as she smiled. He withdrew slightly, looking away and hoping she wouldn't notice he had spent probably too long looking at her mouth.

They stood quietly like that for a long time, Braedon's eyes darting across the table, the floor, the walls, the windows; anywhere that he could look where Amerise would be on the edge of his vision he looked, until finally she made a show of walking into the living room.

"I think you need to figure out where the shadow blocking your vision is coming from," she said finally. "That is what you should search for, because I think your frustration with it is being taken out on others around you."

He knew that on occasion his demeanor made it clear that something weighed on him, and for all of her miscommunication and apparent naivety Amerise was certainly observant enough to notice. She couldn't know the details of course; it seemed that she had seen his unhappy reflections on Jacob as some kind of inner conflict, and he was quick to correct her.

"You think something is clouding my judgment? I have the Goddess to guide me, I see very clearly."

For a moment, for a single blink of an eye, he thought he saw Amerise's patient demeanor falter. Her lips curled in vague annoyance and her brows drew close, and then she was sighing and smiling patiently again. "If the Goddess is doing the looking, are you really seeing?"

She had startled him like this once before, when they had first spoken to each other. He was too shocked by this insistence she made—that he was not a tool of the Goddess but his own person—that he could never bring himself to be offended. It did make his face flush and his head spin, though he wasn't sure why, and so he quietly muttered about how he'd come back later, and hurried outside into the fresh air.

Adeline glanced over and smiled at him when he took a gasping breath in. She always stood outside when the weather was nice, her hands close to her chest as they twisted and twirled hair nearly the same shade of blonde as Amerise's. "The cool air is rather nice this morning, isn't it?" she sighed.

He thought he muttered in agreement, but he wasn't quite sure. His head was still spinning about what Amerise had said. However, one thought made itself clear as he looked out over the small square, where he spotted a sharp eyed predator lurking in the crowd; a fleeting glimpse of slick black and bright blue followed by a trail of fiery yellow and orange. "Adeline, please don't allow any visitors inside today."

"Is Elora not recovering well?" She paused for him to answer, continuing when he offered no response. "I had worried that she may have caught cold, with how often she sleeps. I'll insist that she drink more tea," she murmured. "And certainly will allow no visitors, if that is your recommendation."

It seemed to him that the day passed quickly, but when he glanced up at the sky he realized that it was barely midday, and he couldn't quite remember what he had been doing. At some point between speaking to Adeline and the moment he was at now he had lost track of himself.

A cold fear spread from his chest to his fingers, and he closed his eyes and felt himself tremble when no prayer sprang forth to save him.

"You're the one that told Adeline to tell us to get lost, right?"

Braedon opened his eyes slowly, face to face with fiery yellow and orange. "What?"

Marcus's lip curled in annoyance and the moment gave Braedon the chance to realize that he had wandered to the edge of Carderock, the cliff face where airships would carry travelers back and forth between Saint's Haven. Jacob had commented on the scenery here, regretting the barricades.

"Is there a reason you're telling people who they can and can't let into their houses?" Marcus was humming with barely restrained anger, and Braedon realized that he was still caught in the anxious grip of fear himself.

"Would you mind leaving me alone?" His voice rasped from a tight throat and a dry mouth and he was unmoved when the warrior took a threatening step closer.

"Are you gonna answer the damn question?"

Braedon licked his lips, focusing on the expanse of sky that he was able to see easily beyond the warrior's slick blonde hair. He had no intention of answering him, and his thoughts drifted until he imagined he could see the tall towers of the castle in Saints Haven where he and Jacob had often wandered when they slipped away from Order business there.

The thoughts brought him no comfort and his jaw clenched in rage and disgust and sorrow; Marcus's hand digging into the front of his shirt came as a surprise, though Braedon rejoiced for the chance to take these emotions out on _something_so he could return to the comfortable numbness he had maintained until today.

He did not fight in a way that would have been considered proper for a Divine Knight, but he wasn't one; there was no shame in snapping his head forward into Marcus's nose, or in grabbing him before he could fall back, because he wouldn't be able to properly bring his fist to his face.

How long he and Marcus fought he wasn't sure, but when they were eventually pulled apart his lip had split, and his knuckles were raw beneath his gloves. The warrior's face had become bloody, swollen, and barely recognizable. Braedon felt satisfied and sick all at once as he allowed himself to stumble back and fall to the ground.

With a heavy sigh he let the buzz of voices surround him, following the black and blue blur that seemed to be circling them. In reality, Kieran was simply bobbing worriedly around Marcus, kneeling down by his head and looking up at faces that Braedon couldn't see. It surprised him that he did not look angry, but was pale and worried, and agitated, and seemed to be speaking to him with the same amount of concern he had for Marcus.

He couldn't make out the words so he allowed himself to bow his head and glance at the feet and legs around him; his temple was starting to throb, as well as his chest and shoulders, but his temple especially was hurting.

Conall's hands on his shoulders was a familiar sensation, if only because the warrior had a penchant for smacking his shoulder whenever he was impressed or happy or amused or worried; now they were careful with worry, and suddenly Braedon found himself hoisted to his feet and being led to the back of Germaine's home.

Paralee was darting around their legs, and it was her shrill voice that finally broke through: "What's wrong with him?"

"I don't know, Paralee, just open the door." Conall's voice was short and tight and it was so unfamiliar to Braedon that he felt the fear creep up his neck. The back of Germaine's home was dark, and because it was midday the house was quiet as they stepped across the threshold.

"I'm sorry." He couldn't think of anything else to say, but it didn't seem to matter what he said because Conall didn't even acknowledge it. He stopped and propped him against the wall, looking at him seriously.

"What happened out there? Are you okay?"

"I'm okay. I can walk. You didn't have to help me." His lip stung with every word, but the expressions on Conall and Paralee's faces made him wonder if maybe he wasn't okay at all.

"You're crying," Paralee protested.

There was no way he could feel any tears through his gloves but he brought his fingers to his face in alarm, realizing that his skin was damp and uncomfortable. He had never cried like this before, silent and without even a hitch in his breath. Maybe this is why Kieran had looked so concerned.

"I didn't notice."

Conall continued to look at him seriously, his eyes darting across his face as if he could find the answers written across his forehead. "This isn't about Marcus, is it?"

He shook his head, licking the blood off of his lip. "No."

It was not a good enough answer for Conall, but he seemed to understand that he was better off sitting him down in the kitchen and offering him a wet cloth and a mirror so he could clean himself up. "You really beat the shit out him, for not having anything to do with him."

He looked at his reflection because he was too ashamed to look at his team mate, and winced at the bright red swelling that spanned down his temple and side of his face. He was not completely sure that all of the blood on his face was actually his; it had gotten into his hair and across his forehead and cheek, and he wondered if Marcus had spit at him at some point, because he couldn't imagine it had gotten there from when he broke his nose.

Paralee was pulling herself up onto the table itself, sitting on the edge and looking at him. Her gaze made him intensely uncomfortable, and he found himself closing his eyes in irritation. "Paralee, you shouldn't stare at people like that."

She leant back and adjusted her glasses with a frown. "Sorry. I'm just surprised that the only injuries Marcus managed to give you were a split lip and some bruises. Kevin was yelling about how he saw everything, and that Marcus had started the fight."

"He grabbed my shirt," he muttered, gingerly dabbing his lip and chin to clean away the blood he was sure was his. He couldn't remember why it had escalated so quickly. "I don't remember anything else."

That truth hung in the air, unsettling as it was, and went undisturbed until Germaine had arrived. By this time Braedon had wiped off most of the blood except what had gotten into his hair, and his face looked deceptively pink because of it. He looked up at Germaine warily, aware that he was his superior and as such had every right to punish him.

"Both of you, outside." He brushed past the two stragglers in question, and Conall and Paralee were quick to disappear. The cleric trainer took a seat across from him, and when the door had closed and he saw the pair outside carefully removed his hat and sunglasses.

They were set on the table between them, next to the mirror and bloody rag, and Braedon stared at them while Germaine sighed. His hands, long fingered and clean, twisted and shook on the tabletop. Slowly Braedon allowed his gaze to drift to his face. He looked more tortured over what had happened than Braedon felt and when he spoke his voice was halting and strained.

"Would you mind removing your gloves, Braedon?"

It wasn't lost on him that Germaine had deliberately referred to him without the 'brother' before his name, but he was more surprised that he hadn't thought to remove his gloves before. The rough fabric scraped at the raw skin of his knuckles and he hissed when he saw how much blood there actually was.

He stared at the torn skin for only a moment. Germaine had reached out and began the first intonation of the spell for Aura of Healing, and he quickly withdrew his hands. "I don't want to use magic to heal any of my wounds."

Germaine hesitated, but pulled his hands back as well. "Is this out of pride? I'm sure you know that Marcus, as a warrior, will choose to bear his wounds as well."

"It is… punishment," he decided. His voice lacked the confidence to convince Germaine, but he knew that he did not want to display his wounds to show that he was strong. So he considered his words for a moment and spoke again. "Seeing them brings me comfort."

"I see. Braedon, perhaps you remember our discussion the first day you came here. I said that if you ever wanted to speak about what weighed on you, you could come to me when you were ready and confess what needed to be confessed."

He paused to allow a nod of understanding, and continued: "After what happened, I think it's clear that I let you harbor that anger I saw in you for too long. For your safety, and the safety of those around you, I'm insisting that you speak to me."

It was not out of stubbornness that Braedon stayed silent. He watched Germaine's face, noted the concern and the fear and the sadness and did not think he could say what this man wanted to hear. The fight had returned him to a numbness that he had enjoyed for the past four days, and he could not recall any thoughts of his anger.

He thought of other things, and spoke abruptly: "Amerise spoke to me today about shadows. Shadows that were clouding my vision."

Germaine's reaction was minimal, a slight tilt of his head. "And why did she bring that up to you?"

"I have been fighting with Elora since she was injured," he admitted. "It was suggested to me that… these shadows are making me take out my frustrations on others."

"Is that what you did to Marcus?"

They sat in silence, the bloody rag drawing the gaze of both men. It spurred his thoughts to drift back to Marcus, and the moments before he had smashed his head into the shorter boy's face. But he could recall nothing. "He would not leave me alone. When he threatened me I reacted."

The older man regarded him with the same patience that Amerise had that morning, and he again remembered her words, and let them shift and settle. Germaine seemed to recognize he was thinking intently because he did not speak for a long time.

"There is something that is causing this anger in you, Brother, and I think it was apt to describe them as shadows." He was looking at Braedon as warmly as he could manage with his harried appearance. "I understand the rage that comes from loss, and I will help you with all the power I have if you'll accept it."

It crossed his mind that he should play dumb, his conscious reeling from the idea of being confronted with something he only now realized he had been working hard to repress. Yet the words began to spill from his mouth before he could stop them, and he found he had no desire to once they had begun.

He sputtered about his anger with Elora, that the reasons were petty, and he often looked at her and felt anger before she had even spoken a word, and he had no idea why. He explained the period of time where he could not account for where he was or what he was doing, the fear, the cliff's edge and the airships, and Jacob.

He could tell that Germaine had already learned of Jacob's fate when he nodded and muttered a brief prayer for his soul. This time Braedon did feel the tears on his face, and his voice wavered as he recounted the nightmares that had continued to plague him the past three nights.

"All I know is anger, Brother, because I do not understand why this has happened." He whispered, because he was afraid of what may happen if he pushed his voice to be any louder. "I've been too scared to try. I don't want to know."

Time passed slowly for him after that, and it seemed as if he had sat at the table, with his head resting on the warm wood, and cried for many days while Germaine did his best to comfort him by placing a hand over broken knuckles.


	12. A Breath Away

**Oak and Holly**

_A Breath Away_

He was tired and bruised, and though no one approached him directly when Braedon stepped outside, it was obvious that he was subject to more than a few suspicious glances. The Carderock rumor mill was as effective as ever, it seemed. He was highly tempted to simply turn around and walk right back inside; he could open a window if he wanted fresh air and suffer much less shame.

"Hey! Cleric!"

He hesitated, along with a few other boys, and glanced around the square. He saw a sorceress standing in the shade of a large tree by the bridge, waving one of her hands as if to beckon someone over. "The one with the bruises!"

Ah, that meant him. There wasn't much effort needed to push through the crowd, because it seemed to be parting for him. It hurt that people were afraid of him, but at least its manifestations were useful. As he got closer he realized that he knew this woman. He had nodded his head in greeting to her one day and she had promptly narrowed her eyes and filled the palm of her hand with fire. He had made sure to never look in her direction again.

She had picked up a stack of books and a bundle of fabric, but that wouldn't prevent her from igniting his clothes. He knew now that she was the sorceress trainer for this town, capable of much more advanced magic than he had seen from Elora.

"Braedon, isn't it?" She sniffed and tilted her head slightly, giving him a very critical look. He did his best not to look too offensive. "I hear that you're taking care of one of my sisters."

"Um—"

"I would rather you not get your filthy paws all over these," she paused to look at the books in her arms. "But when I tried to stop that blond warrior—not the one you beat up, of course—he said he was not allowed into Adeline's house and to ask _you_. So now _you _can take these to Adeline's. I trust you know that you're forbidden to read these books."

Before he could respond she had unceremoniously dumped the books into his arms, and he hissed in pain and in surprise as he struggled to balance the pile. When it seemed none of the books would fall on the ground, the bundle of fabric hit his chest. "What's this?"

"Clothes." She sighed and put a hand on her hip. "That girl's such a pain. Mooching stuff from me, and cooperating with a Divine Knight on top of it."

"I'm not—"

She waved a hand. "Tell her that I did this out of pity, but if she wants me to teach her anything she'll have to pay."

He hesitated, cautiously meeting her gaze again. "Why don't you take this to Elora yourself?"

For a moment her lips became thin lines of irritation, and Braedon's thoughts were immediately filled with thoughts of flames. Thankfully she only used her hand to flick her red hair over her shoulder. "I have better things to do! Even if I didn't, and I actually wanted to carry all that, Adeline won't let anyone inside. Now get lost already, before someone thinks I'm actually having a conversation with you."

He obeyed, of course, falling back on teachings that had been drilled into his head for years. If he hadn't, he might have been quite irritated with her and shoved the burden right back into her arms, not that it would have helped his dwindling image much. He wasn't in the mood to see Elora, for one, and each step he took towards Adeline's made him feel more weary and anxious.

No cleric ever really looked forward to speaking to a sorceress. Most of them were masters of holding a grudge, and in her mind she certainly had several grudges worth holding. He supposed that if he hadn't been letting things fester there wouldn't have been a need for him to see her only when she was sleeping, something that he knew she would have taken offense to.

And now he was walking into Adeline's house with only a pile of books between himself and her.

The only small comfort he had was that Adeline had heard about the incident from Conall and Paralee, and so she was not eyeing him in suspicion or fear like everyone outside. She happily informed him that Elora was awake and likely enjoying the tea she had just brought her, and rather graciously led him upstairs so she could open the door for him.

He couldn't tell if Elora was actually sleeping or not because her face was turned away from him, but she was certainly not enjoying her tea; she was sprawled on her cot below the window, her uninjured leg dangling over the edge so her toes brushed the floor.

He had grown so used to seeing her in a borrowed nightgown and robe that he hardly even considered it a state of undress anymore. The first time he had seen her like that the blood had rushed to his face and he had promptly turned back around and waited in the hallway until he had composed himself again.

Now inside the room with the door closed behind him, he was eager to relieve himself of the burden that sorceress had thrown into his arms. He hissed in pain when he set the books on the floor, his bandaged knuckles scrapping against the wood. The lack of response from Elora made him think she likely was asleep and he lifted his head expecting to see her eyes closed and mouth open.

But her eyes were open, and her mouth was closed into a pout; she was simply ignoring him in favor of looking up at the clouds as they crossed the sky, occasionally blotting out the sun and casting the entire room into shadow.

Braedon wanted to say something, though he wasn't sure what. Simply mentioning the books or clothes didn't seem enough. "Is your leg sore?"

When she turned her head to regard him in exasperation he realized that it was a stupid question. "Is your face sore?"

Being faced with her attitude was certainly not a happy occasion, no matter the circumstances. If this conversation had occurred yesterday, or even a few hours before, Braedon would have snapped at her. _You don't have to behave like a brat. It's a valid question. If you don't want my help I'll leave. _

The throb of his temple and the sting of his torn skin, physical reminders that his anger had been released once already, kept him calm. He didn't have anything to take out on Elora, even if she was behaving like a brat.

"I'm sorry," he said finally. "I'll do my best to fix it."

The sound of a chair scraping across the floor broke the stunned silence for only a moment. After he was settled and working his magic—and taking special care not to heal himself—the silence continued undisturbed. Elora's attention had returned to the window, and Braedon found himself looking up as well, the slow drift of clouds ensuring that he wouldn't stare at _her _and make her upset.

"So what was the fight all about?" She didn't look at him, but that was also so common an occurrence that it could offer him no insult. "My only source of information is Adeline, since no one came to see me today."

Braedon felt his face begin to burn in shame again."I'm sorry for that as well. I only wanted her to keep Marcus and Kieran out." He faltered under the sharp glare sent his way. "It was a misunderstanding… and I already paid for it."

"You're such a moron. Leave it to a cleric to mess up everything."

"I'll accept the insult on top of the bruises as suitable punishment," he grumbled. "I thought you wanted to hear about the fight?"

"Only if it was particularly painful for you," she quipped. He sat for a moment, watching shadows drift across his hands and her simple white nightgown, wondering how painful it had really been. Really the aftermath had been worse.

"It was the worst pain I've experienced since—since the 13th, in the end," he decided. The fabric of her nightgown rustled as her breath hitched and body flinched; his eyes flicked to her face where, for a brief moment, he thought he saw distress.

She swung her arm and let her hand hung limply over the edge of the cot, her chin dimpling as she frowned and sighed. "Jacob, you mean."

She didn't ask him to get back to the fight, and though he certainly was surprised that she was affected by the topic he couldn't find the right way to ask her about it. They were still and silent, watching the clouds, until he finally felt it was okay to change the subject.

He turned and gestured to the books he had put on the floor. "I brought those for you, from the sorceress trainer here."

"Yeah, Tiana." Elora crossed her legs at the ankle, turning her head so she could examine her fingernails. The tiny smirk on her face was hard to miss. "It probably killed her to ask you for help."

"She said that I was forbidden to look at the books."

"Goddess, are you really trying to make small talk right now? Yeah, they're for study, so only members of the Coven can read them."

"For… study." He tried to look thoughtful, putting his knuckles in front of his mouth to hide his amusement. But, his voice had sounded too skeptical, and she glared at him as if she had insulted the entire coven.

"Yes, study! At least one person on this team has to be competent." She rolled her eyes back to her finger nails. "And I'm really the only one up to being that person, honestly."

"I understand that you don't have much faith in my abilities because of your natural bias against me, but Conall certainly has the potential to be competent. Amerise is certainly a competent woman."

"Spare me the dreamy sighs, Casanova."

He raised his shoulders and turned his head, sighing anyway. He wanted to roll his eyes, but that would be too much like Elora. "I can say that she's a competent woman without meaning anything else by it."

"You can, but we all know that's not the case. She tells me about your visits, you know. I'm pretty sure she's expecting flowers at this point, you two may as well be a couple."

The throbbing in his head grew worse, and he realized it was probably from a lack of oxygen because for some reason he had held his breath. Just what had Amerise been telling her? Had he really been that obvious—did she really want him to—wait, why was Elora smiling like that?

She propped herself up on her elbow, tittering and pressing the tips of her fingers to her mouth. "Why, Braedon, you've turned bright red. Is this true love?"

And she threw her head back and laughed, laughed so hard that she rolled and nearly choked and began laughing even louder and he realized he was a fool. His embarrassment rather quickly turned to anger. It felt like his skull was going to split open, and his lip stung as he chewed on the inside of it so he wouldn't yell.

"Elora—"

"Your face—you really thought—Braedon, oh! Althea!" She was practically screeching in delight, muffling it as best she could behind her hands. "I almost feel bad for you!"

"Elora!" He stood when she continued on, as if she was drawing out her laughter to torment him. He grabbed her wrists and pulled her hands away from her face, scowling down at her. "That's enough."

Her eyes were wide, skin flushed and damp from the exertion and tears her laughter had caused. He found himself staring down at her with as much, if not more, surprise. The longer he stared the more flushed they both became. He couldn't remember what he had wanted her attention for… he realized he had stopped breathing again.

"I'm sorry, alright?" she didn't seem to know what else to do, looking at his hands and waiting to see if she had said the right thing.

When the door opened he was still standing over her, holding onto her wrists, and they both looked up at Adeline in surprise. "I'm sorry. I would have knocked, but Germaine has just visited and would like both of you to see him. It is urgent."

Instead of releasing her, Braedon used his grip on Elora to help her sit up. "What happened?"

"Conall was attacked by the Black Knight." She reassured them as best she could; they had both immediately demanded to know if he was alright, Elora the loudest. "He's alright! But it is important that you go to Germaine's right away."

Braedon stood for a moment longer, feeling the tension leave Elora's body as she sighed. He let go of her wrists then, retrieved the bundle of clothes Tiana had given him and put it in her hands. "I'll wait in the hall."

She nodded, refusing to look at him directly or thank him. "Okay."

He was all too happy to leave the room, Adeline stepping in as he slipped out into the small hallway and closing the door on his back. He leaned against the door for a moment, his shoulders feeling heavy and the steady throb of his injuries making him feel dizzy. When he closed his eyes all he could see was himself looming over Elora, body tensed in anger.

What had he planned to do, exactly, once he got his hands on her? Hurt her, like he had attempted to before? Had that still been his intention in the moments before Adeline had walked in?

His stomach burned, and it was a struggle to move away from the door before it opened. Elora looked just as unhappy and flustered as he felt; her shoulders were tense, and her hair was pulled up into the same hurried ponytail she had done before facing Red Gale. She looked at him for a moment, but he was unable to read her expression when she wasn't regarding him with irritation.

Adeline followed them down the stairs and to the door, asking that they tell her everything that happened when Elora returned. She stopped them before they could step outside, placing a hand on Braedon's shoulder and looking at them both seriously. "Please, listen to whatever they tell you. They're only thinking of keeping you safe, whatever their decision."

They took the short trip to Germaine's with no small amount of dread.


	13. Splinters

_Right, so where were we again? Chapter thirteen, right._

* * *

**Oak and Holly**

_Splinters_

Elora was never shocked when she found herself involved in an argument. In fact, she was shocked when she went through a day without arguing with anyone; it seemed contrary to her nature, or at least that's what people had told her. Surely Braedon was not surprised that she was arguing loudly with Germaine, though he was staring with the dull horror of a man that didn't want to choose sides.

Paralee was practically hanging off of her arm, her literal right hand man, echoing her statements at appropriate times and injecting shouts of agreement where necessary. It did not make her feel good to make a grown man shrink in front of her and watch his eyes desperately search the room for some kind of support, but she would not sit back and be herded around like the dimwitted clerics listening in the hallway.

Germaine feebly raised a hand, stuttering something about how there was no need to yell.

There was always a reason to yell. It was the only way to be heard. Of course he wouldn't know that.

"I'll yell until you finally listen to me!"

"I am—"

"You aren't!" She jabbed a finger in his direction and he flinched, putting his hands on the table between them, a space she was sure he was grateful for. "You're just hoping I'll get tired and give in!"

He began to stutter so badly that no words could leave his mouth and he finally fell silent and looked desperately to his right, where Braedon had become a statue, and then to his left, where another statue stood; a large man with an eye patch and a mustache had been there from the beginning, but Elora was starting to think that he was there for moral support and nothing else.

He hadn't said a word since Germaine had announced that she, Paralee and Conall would not be allowed to leave the town because it had been deemed too dangerous beyond the barricades.

"Elora and Conall are more than capable," Paralee said. Her back straightened and her chin lifted, taking advantage of the silence. "And so am I. Age does not negate someone's abilities!"

"Age limits experience." The rough voice startled all of them, and finally the large man approached the table. "I've listened to you, both of you, and I know if that kid was actually conscious he would've been yelling, too. I don't care what age you are, if you don't got the experience, you won't survive."

Elora scowled, though this man was even more intimidating up close. She was fairly certain he was the warrior trainer, because he certainly looked like a warrior. "I have plenty of experience."

"Yeah, I heard about what you did to that minotaur." He paused and Elora was surprised to see that he was impressed by the event. "But this isn't another minotaur. You aren't ready. None of you are. Maybe if you all found some good armor and moved up the ranks a bit—"

"Chandler! The town agreed that anyone underage wouldn't—"

He waved a hand at the cleric, dismissing him immediately.

"I agree with the runt, age doesn't have anything to do with ability," he didn't pause when Paralee voiced her outrage, "if they can prove they're strong enough they should be able to go beyond the barricade. Besides, everyone in this damn town needs better armor."

"Sorceresses don't wear armor," Elora pointed out.

"You lot would last longer if you did. Look, if saving the Prophet is so important to you, get stronger. I'll take you past the barricades myself."

Germaine protested immediately, but Paralee was jumping in excitement, and left her side to run up stairs and tell Amerise the news, since she had surely heard there was an argument going on. Elora looked up at Chandler in astonishment. She never thought she'd find herself regarding a one eyed, tattooed man with fondness.

But that went against her nature. "You really think I'm not strong enough?"

He looked at her with serious consideration, putting his hands on the table and leaning forward. "You're not. I don't think he's strong enough either," and he paused to gesture to Braedon, "but he's old enough to do what he wants."

Elora frowned, putting her hands on the table and leaning forward as well. "I'm technically of age, you know."

"Yeah, you yelled that at Germaine quite a few times. But times are changing. Sixteen is starting to look too young to most people. That's usually how it goes when people feel they're at war."

"If we really are at war then you're taking this situation too lightly," Germaine protested. "We have lost enough children because of the League's negligence. You shouldn't volunteer to escort three more to an early demise."

"If you had it your way even the ones that are eighteen would be kept in an underground bunker and never let out until they were in their thirties," Chandler groused. "The country can't depend on old men like me forever."

Chandler scowled at Germaine with Elora's help, which she was all too happy to give, until the cleric surrendered; he dropped into a chair and crossed himself, muttering a stream of prayers for his sanity, the safety of the town, and the hope that Chandler would see the light before it was too late. It was obvious to her that he had no interest in seeing the light. His exit was quick, and went unnoticed by Germaine, his farewell covered by feverish muttering. She wanted to snap at him to knock it off, but she figured she had terrorized him enough.

Besides, there were probably only so many times she could snap at him before Braedon finally felt compelled to react, and it was better that he stay quiet and busy with lighting candles to stop the dusk from getting too far into the house. Instead she sat at the table, picking at the wood and running her hands over it to survey the previous damage that had been done to it. The tables at Mana Ridge never had so many nicks and dents and deep carvings, but the beds were a different story.

She had slipped under her bed with a pair of scissors and carefully dug her name into the wooden frame, under a list of others that had slept there before her. Every bed had been carved in this manner, in every dorm; when lessons were dull she would sneak around and wiggle under the beds to touch the names and then puzzle symbols carved beside them.

The symbols, she learned, were part of the complicated system of short hand that had been created some years ago in an effort to keep what secrets the Coven had left away from others. Three years ago she had meticulously carved a little symbol next to her name, and spent the entire night running her fingers across the tiny bumps and ridges.

When the sun rose she had left her bed for Lotus Marsh.

She didn't know if the clerics had their own symbols, but if she had money she would bet that they didn't. They were too stupid to think of anything like that. It was far more likely that, besides the little nicks that were clearly initials or names, there was no meaning to anything scratched into the table.

"What should we do?" Braedon sighed.

Elora hissed as a piece of wood stuck underneath her thumbnail, and she jerked her hand back so quickly she nearly smacked Braedon in the face. He flinched but didn't move from his place behind her, leaning over her shoulder to place a candle on the table and speak to her without Germaine noticing.

"You can take ten steps backwards," she grumbled, pulling her hands close to investigate the damage. No blood. No sliver stuck in her skin, which was even better. She could feel Braedon tense momentarily, and hesitate, as if he wasn't sure if he should literally count his steps or not.

He took one small step to the right. "Do you want to wait with the others?"

She knew that somewhere upstairs Conall was tucked in bed, unconscious. Elora was rather neutral towards Conall, which was about as positive as she felt towards anyone; he was easy to talk to, and that was something to be valued when surrounded by idiots and preachers. If she decided she wanted to show some camaraderie and wait for him to wake up, and that was something she did want to do, that meant sitting in a cramped room with Amerise and Paralee. That meant sitting in a cramped room with Braedon.

She moved her hands, gingerly touching bone and skin. The light from the candle was dim, but she didn't need to see to know that her wrists were bruising. She briefly, very briefly, pressed down. Her fingers were much smaller than Braedon's. The pain started and spread differently.

"I don't know," she decided. "All my books are at Adeline's."

"There's no reason I can't bring the books here, Elora."

"Tiana would kill me if I brought them into a house full of clerics."

Germaine rose from his chair, and they fell into silence again. Elora watched him carefully so she would have an excuse to ignore Braedon. He was close enough that a strange burn crept down her neck and back; the feeling that something was hovering only inches away, waiting to touch the skin until finally his hand covered hers and she felt his chest against her shoulders.

The touch made her realize that her hands had been moving, twisting around her wrists and pulling at the bruises which hurt rather badly now. "Wh—shit, ow!"

Braedon pulled back as if he had been burned, and Germaine turned to see what had happened. His eyes darted between them and narrowed slightly the longer they sat in silence. Braedon was shifting nervously behind her, resting his hands on the back of her chair, then pulling them away, then returning them back to the chair.

Germaine watched this for a moment then cleared his throat. "What happened?"

"Splinter, from your cheap table." Elora raised her hand, gesturing to her fingers. He wouldn't have been able to see even if she was telling the truth. The kitchen had grown rather dark by now, and the candles barely helped.

"Che—cheap?" He seemed to be struggling to swallow unkind words, head bobbing to choke them back. "Old, yes, but by no means is it cheap. You two should go upstairs and see Conall, he may wake up soon."

The idea that she would be scolded twice in her life by a cleric trainer was so startling that Elora didn't even protest when Braedon helped her stand and hobble out of the kitchen. It was only after they had waded through an ocean of clerics and were heading up the stairs that she sighed and clicked her tongue.

"Braedon, I want to go back downstairs."

He stopped and looked over his shoulder, distressed. "We're nearly at the top already, it can't hurt to just go in and see."

She frowned at him, twisting in his grip. The warmth from his hands made her uncomfortable, and she pressed a hand against the wall as Braedon dropped his hands. He looked uncertain, turning his head and looking up and down the staircase as if he had lost something there.

"I'm sorry, if I hurt you in the kitchen. Or at—I'm sorry. I just noticed that you were, uh," he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "If you don't want to stay because of me—"

"Oh please, Braedon. Don't flatter yourself. I'm not afraid of you." She couldn't cross her arms, but she did offer him her best sneer.

"You're not?" It was barely a question. He looked at her so incredulously that the question was just an insult. He took a step closer, a hand reaching out for her arm and then he stopped. Her skin burned, creeping up her arm and then slithering down to her back; his fingers were barely an inch away.

She sighed, narrowing her eyes. "What?"

"You flinched."

"No I didn't."

"You pressed yourself against the wall."

They stared at each other for a moment, Elora pondering the chill from the wall that crept up her opposite arm and soothed the burn spreading across her back. "I got tired of holding myself up like that."

He dropped his hand back to his side, but he looked so upset that she nearly had to look away. "If I heal them, your wrists… if I do that?"

For a moment she thought she could feel his hands on her wrists again. His fingers digging into her skin, pressed against bone, a shadow that covered her entirely and waited. An uncomfortable heat spread up her neck and to her eyes, quick and disorienting, and it seemed that there was nothing in front of her. She barely took a breath, barely had time to blink before the answer had left her lips.

"It won't change anything."

She made her way up the last few steps with him hovering nervously behind her, and though it took a lot of effort and made her leg throb, the trip down the hallway was made without his help. Even though she hadn't really known where Conall was, it had been easy enough to follow Paralee's voice. When the door opened Elora and Braedon were both immediately scolded for dilly-dallying, and though a good effort was made by Elora to roll her eyes and tell the kid to shut her mouth, the pain in her leg and wrists dulled her bite.

The room was lit a bit better than the kitchen had been. It was hard to tell if she had been in this room before or not since all the rooms tended to look the same. This one had one bunk bed pushed against a wall, and a lone bed that Conall was in and that Amerise was sitting next to. Elora was sure that the elf hadn't been sitting by the bedside for very long, but she looked completely exhausted. Conall on the other hand did not look as bad as she had imagined, though the fact he was unconscious was certainly cause for concern.

"We were just discussing the silver haired woman that healed Conall," Paralee said, helping Elora hobble over to a chair though she hadn't been asked. "And how it would be a good idea to find her and talk to her. I think that she would be able to help us with the Black Knight."

"You still talk as if you're actually part of the team," Elora grumbled, gingerly rubbing her leg.

"I talk like I'm part of the team because I am," she said.

"Paralee was incredibly helpful when we were going through the Sanctuary," Amerise said. "Her cannon is very impressive. She kept me safe while I was helping Conall out of there, until Kieran arrived and carried him back."

"You didn't say anything about Kieran!" Elora leaned towards Paralee, whose expression of alarm and embarrassment was nearly priceless. Braedon had made a sound of surprise behind them, closing the door.

"Kieran helped you?"

"I just didn't have time to get to that part," the girl protested, fumbling with her glasses, "because Germaine interrupted with that horrible news of his. Yes, Kieran found us and helped out, but it wasn't much! We had nearly made it out of the sanctuary by then."

"Kieran was a very great help, Paralee. There's no shame in admitting that we may have misjudged his character." Amerise regarded her with a tired frown and then turned her attention to Elora and Braedon. "He came of his own accord, alone, to help us when word reached the town that the Black Knight had been sighted where Bailey had sent us. I can't say much for Marcus, but Kieran seems to be a good man."

"Well who cares about that, really?" Paralee waved a hand. "I'd rather focus on the silver haired woman that helped us. I'm sure that the whole town knows about her by now, and there are people in the adventurer's league that might eventually be sent to look for her. I doubt they'll scare her away, but I think it'd be a good idea for Amerise and Braedon to be available for that job so we can keep this whole Black Knight business somewhat contained."

Amerise didn't react to her suggestion, but Braedon rubbed the back of his neck again. "It seems like the entire town would know about the Black Knight by now."

"I'm sure they do, but we should try to be the only ones that deal with him! It's our job to save the Prophet right? So we have to be the ones to face him."

Elora couldn't think of much to say to that, and she watched as Amerise busied herself with fixing Conall's hair. Braedon cleared his throat, shifting from foot to foot instead of pacing the room. Somehow she couldn't blame them for balking at the idea of continuing to face the Black Knight alone.

"Even if we all are recognized as specialized—even if Amerise moves up in the ranks of her specialization, I don't believe that we can take on the Black Knight with just the five of us. Even if your cannon is particularly impressive," Braedon said.

Paralee seemed to struggle to process this, adjusting her glasses and frowning up at the ceiling. It looked like she was calculating an equation, her eyes darting across information no one else could see. "I don't think we'll actually have to fight him! I think if we talk to that silver haired woman, it will be okay."

"And how does that keep things contained?" Elora questioned.

"I think she's meant to help us."

Elora rolled her eyes and sighed. "Of course you do."

As far as she knew, Paralee had never made any mention to Amerise or Braedon about her absurd ideas of time travel. She still heard them often enough to know that rather than this being a reference to fate, which of course caught the interest of everyone else in the audience but her, this was a reference to Paralee's so called files, data collected in the future of all past events.

"Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to ask Kieran for help," Amerise muttered.

"Wh—no! I mean, we can't be completely sure he can be trusted yet. One decent act does not make you a decent person. Asking the silver haired woman is more than enough already."

"I agree with Amerise." Braedon frowned, stepping away from the door. Paralee was on the verge of being outraged, huffing and gesturing with her hand out, like she was waiting to catch some copper.

"Conall wouldn't agree with this," she said finally.

"It doesn't matter. The three of you can't come with us until you can somehow prove you're stronger," he pointed out. "If Amerise and I choose to ask Kieran to help us find the silver haired woman, that's our decision."

"You shouldn't trample over us just because we're locked inside," Elora grumbled. "Our opinions are still valid. It's not like we're emotionally unstable."

Braedon flushed, staring at her because he was too shocked to speak. She almost felt guilty when she realized that everyone in the room that was conscious was staring back, watching him closely for a more obvious reaction; in the end she had to scowl just so she wouldn't smile in satisfaction.

"Then we'll wait until Conall wakes. There's nothing we can do but wait," he muttered, stepping back towards the door. "The bottom bunk is mine if you want to use it, Amerise. I'll take you back to Adeline's, Elora."

"No, I think I'll stay. I think it's important that the three kids have a nice, long conversation about how to break out of Carderock," Elora mused.

"We can share the top bunk!" Paralee decided. "The cleric that stays in here won't mind at all, he can just take my bed. They're always switching rooms."

Elora nodded, regarding Braedon with a tight lipped smile. It admittedly wasn't the ideal situation, but she had put up with worse things than sharing a bed with a kid. Braedon seemed to be puzzled, looking at Amerise as if she would help make sense of it, but she was completely engrossed with Conall and didn't notice. He nodded in return, muttered something that may have been good night, and left.

Paralee sighed, already climbing up to the top bunk to investigate. "He looked pretty upset, didn't he?"

Elora frowned, glanced at her wrists, and shrugged. "Who cares?"

* * *

**I'm thinking of doing world building stuff on my word press, so if you're curious about how I'm approaching the Lagendia/Altera or have burning questions hustle over there.**

This chapter took a long time, didn't it? This is actually the third version of this chapter that I have on my computer. Muryou actually has many more! School never really let up on me. More important was that I had to tread a careful line in terms of writing Elora when considering the events of chapter twelve, which I felt shouldn't have been overplayed but also shouldn't be trivialized. I'm not sure if I found the exact balance, but I hope that at the very least I did not trivialize those events.

On another note: chapters eleven, twelve and thirteen all take place on the same day. I can't remember what exact day it is right now, but it's getting close to the last week of September. We're moving at a snail's pace, here, damn.


	14. Unexpected Encouragement

It's a little short! Considering that I've taken a long time with this, I'm sorry for that. I'm also sorry for this chapter title. But I hope you enjoy this chapter anyway!

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**Oak and Holly**

_Unexpected Encouragement_

Though Elora had often been lauded as the girl who could sleep anywhere and through anything, she did not get any sleep at Germaine's. Paralee's elbows and knees were bony and quick, and they always found her back and chest no matter how far away she tried to move. On the bunk below she could hear Amerise sighing and tossing all night, and every so often the floor would creak and Elora knew she had gotten up to check on Conall. Since there wasn't much else for her to do, Elora would prop herself up and look down over the edge of the bed to ask how he was doing.

Her answer was always the same: "I thought he would have woken up by now."

Paralee didn't wake up through any of this, and Elora was thinking of passing on her title of Heaviest Sleeper to the bony little brat when Amerise got up for the fifth time and didn't come back. Elora had enjoyed the silence, at first. The darkness had barely begun to fade, and her hopes were high for being able to sleep before the sun began to rise.

But she found herself periodically waking and looking over the edge of the bed. Light crept further across the floor, the only change in the room; Conall did not wake. Paralee's elbows continued to press into her ribs. Sleep continued to elude her. As the light crawled further across the floor she had wondered where Amerise had gone, because if she wasn't going to be back any time soon that meant there was a bed free of gangly preteens.

In the end she hadn't moved; she woke up, not remembering ever falling asleep, alone on the top bunk. It was well into the morning, past the early grey hours before the sun rose but the room and house seemed fairly quiet. With a sigh she stretched across the mattress, squinting over the edge of the bed one last time.

"Morning, Conall."

There was no telling how long he had been awake, but he sat on the edge of the bed, yawning and resting his arms on his knees. He looked up in confusion when she spoke, rubbing his face and running his fingers through his hair. "Elora?"

She yawned as well, propping herself up on her elbows. "There was a huge party and I got so drunk I had to sleep over."

"Man, it must have been crazy. I don't remember any of it." He smiled, his hands moving to rub his shoulders and arms.

"What do you remember?"

He frowned, his gaze slowly drifting down to the floor, where the window frame cast a shadow on the worn wood. "The Black Knight," he paused to look up at her, "and a light. That's it. You weren't there were you?"

"You really think I would have limped all the way into the woods? I like you, but not that much," she grumbled. He wasn't offended in the least, chuckling and gingerly lifting his arms above his head. One side of his mouth twitched; a tiny wince before he laughed again.

"What's so funny? You almost died you know."

He nodded and let his hands fall into his lap; his fingers bent and twitched. The muscles in his arms tensed when those fingers curled and clenched into fists. "I really thought I was dying, you know? And then I wake up and a sorceress wishes me a good morning."

Elora considered this for a moment, resting her chin on one of her hands; her leg was sore, her knee especially, and she bit her lip so she wouldn't wince when she gingerly stretched it across the mattress. "I take it back then. This morning is awful, and so are you."

"Hey, it's not a bad thing!"

"I don't really enjoy being a joke."

Conall frowned and straightened his back. His head shook slightly, and his eyebrows twitched then drew close together, leaving deep furrows on his forehead. "I didn't mean it like that. I mean—you know—that I went from bad things to good things."

It was always frustrating when she ended up feeling sorry for teasing someone. She had thought that the only one she would never enjoy harassing would be Tara, but now it seemed that she was turning out to be the owner of a tender heart. Or, she thought while pulling herself up to sit, it's because they're so pathetic that their reactions aren't worth it.

"I have a feeling that if Amerise had been here, you would have been in the Goddess's arms," she ventured, watching him carefully and placing careful fingers in front of her lips in feigned thought. "You know, she stayed up most of the night looking after you. Spent a lot of time sighing and touching your hair."

He turned bright red and went absolutely still, his breath coming in small gasps and leaving in flustered stammers. "Really?

With a careful nod she swooped in for the kill. "I think she might fancy you. But, then again, she's done the same to Braedon."

The reaction was severe, but safe. The glow in his face dimmed, his posture folding immediately. His eyes darted uncertainly to the floor as he touched his hair and frowned. "She has?"

Elora was reassured by the slow smirk that spread behind her fingers, the same way it had when she had teased Braedon. Proof that she didn't have a tender heart after all. "They spend their mornings together, you know. I suppose that's normal, after cuddling up together like they did. That's probably where she is now."

"Yeah I guess. Probably," he agreed, absently touching the hair that stuck to his forehead. "But if you think she's into me then—man, I wish I hadn't been unconscious. I would have liked to at least feel it. I've always really liked her hands."

"Oh Goddess, spare me before I vomit," she spat. "I can only handle so many boys sighing over an elf. Stick to dreaming about swords and battlefields, like a real warrior."

"Do you really think she's with Braedon?" He rose slowly, approaching the bunk with a nervous demeanor that reminded her of a cautious cat. Elora didn't really know for sure if Amerise and Braedon were together, but if the elf wasn't asleep somewhere else, then she couldn't imagine where else she would be. She certainly wouldn't put it past the cleric to seek her out.

In the end she shrugged. "Does it really matter? I'm more interested in where Paralee is."

Conall sighed at the topic change. "She wasn't here when I woke up. And it matters to me, you know, if Amerise is or isn't."

"Is or isn't what?" She smiled again when the warrior became frustrated. He stepped onto the frame of the bottom bunk and hoisted himself up, scowling and sighing, eyes darting as he tried to think of what he wanted to say.

"I really like Amerise, alright? I do. And she can like who ever she wants. I mean Braedon seems like a decent enough guy, but I still wanna know for sure, you know?"

"No, I don't know," she grumbled. She was tired of Amerise, and frankly Conall laying out his feelings like this made her uncomfortable. She didn't consider him a friend, really. Even if he wasn't pining for someone so annoying she wouldn't have wanted to listen to it.

He frowned, crossing his arms over the wood rail and resting his chin there. "Do you at least know what happened after I got my ass handed to me again?"

Maybe he could tell that it was annoying her, or maybe he really thought that she couldn't understand what he was talking about; she wasn't going to complain about the reason as long as it got him to stop talking about this absurd love triangle.

"I know that Kieran carried your ass back here. From what I understand it was very dramatic, very damsel in distress."

Conall put up about as much fuss about that as expected, but when she mentioned the news from Germaine he became very quiet. He shook his head, moved it so he could hide his face against his arms, and a few moments later sighed heavily as he dropped back down to the floor. "They know we're the ones that are supposed to do this."

"But who says, really?" Elora frowned, fluffing up her pillow. "It's not as if we have a royal decree. I'm sure that there are other adventurers with more experience that would get the job done quicker than we could."

"I don't know anyone that can take on that Black Knight yet," he said. "But if anyone has a chance I definitely think it's you guys! You, and Paralee, and Braedon, and Amerise, you could all definitely get strong enough to beat him."

She let her head drop back down to the pillow. "Aren't you forgetting someone? You know, yourself?"

Her question was met with silence. He didn't seem to be pacing either, or moving at all, really. She wondered if somehow during the time she spent fluffing the pillow and lying down if he had left the room. If she had been a normal person she might have lifted her head to see why Conall wasn't answering, but she was a sorceress. It was easy enough to decide her time was better spent getting some more sleep.

Then he let out a low sigh. "Maybe Kieran would be a better warrior to have around."

"Well, he's definitely better looking." The quip had left her on instinct, though she could tell from his voice, which had halted and wavered, that he was apparently in genuine distress. "But you're already part of the team, more than Paralee is."

"You haven't seen her fight," he pointed out. Elora sighed then, sitting up and leaning over the rail of the bed to look at him; he looked as glum as he had sounded, shoulders slumped and eyes focused on his feet.

"So what? She's a kid with a hunk of metal. The only one you need to worry about surpassing is me, if we're going to be perfectly honest with ourselves, and I don't want to be challenged by a guy who shuffles around looking at his feet!"

He glanced up at her and his skeptical look made her blush. "No offense, but I figured I would have to beat Braedon."

She took a deep breath, swinging herself over the edge of the rail and gingerly dropping down the floor. The pain was sharp in her knee, but it was tolerably dull as it spread down to her ankle. She kept her foot pressed stubbornly against the wood, turning to look at him.

"If I faced down a minotaur alone and only came away with a sore leg I think you have reason to worry about beating me."

He raised his head so they could look each other in the eye, Elora's stubbornly narrowed and his wide in surprise. Then he smiled, holding out his hand. She hesitated in taking it, since it looked as if he wanted to challenge her to arm wrestling, a stance she had seen a few times before. After all that talk though, she didn't have much of a choice and reached out and gripped his hand as hard as she could.

"Alright, we'll be friendly rivals," he laughed, using the grip to jerk her close and roughly pat her back with his free hand. She scowled and gave him one hard smack. He hissed in surprise and chuckled nervously as he let her go.

"Is that really all it takes to make you happy?" she grumbled.

He hesitated then, with a small smile, shook his head. "I'm not all that happy. I mean—you know, I'm happy that you're trying to encourage me and that you're being a good friend—"

"A good what?"

"But being trapped in town and not being strong enough for Rose, that still bothers me," he finished, completely ignoring her question. "And all that with Amerise, you know—"

"We're done with that topic," she grumbled, reaching out and pressing a finger to his lips. "Let's just focus on these new rules keeping us in town, okay? I spent a lot of energy arguing with Germaine in order to get us a work around—let go."

Conall looked bemused; he had gingerly grabbed her wrist so he could pull her hand away from his mouth, but she had flinched rather badly, much to her embarrassment. "Sorry. Did you hurt it recently?" He dropped his hand, looking guiltier than was probably necessary. "I didn't know."

"Forget it, it's not important. Just focus for a few more seconds, alright? Germaine may not want us to go past the barricades, but Chandler said he would help us if we could prove we were strong enough," she explained.

"What, like specializing?"

"I think so."

"You're not specialized?"

"No! Do you see an identifier on me anywhere? And it doesn't matter why I'm not either, alright? It just wasn't important until now."

"I thought it didn't mat—"

"It doesn't!"

Conall looked at her quietly while she took a deep breath, and though she narrowed her eyes to warn him against saying anything else he spoke up anyway. "I just figured you kept it tucked away somewhere, or something, since you're a prodigy."

Elora immediately regretted ever mentioning that, and cursed his apparently excellent memory, considering it had been a passing comment made nearly a week ago. Well, maybe he didn't deserve that much credit; it had really been less of a passing comment and more of a bout of longwinded bragging to make Braedon feel bad.

"It just wasn't important," she repeated, then defensively added: "I wanted to practice with all kinds of magic first."

He seemed to accept this, nodding solemnly. "I know I've never really thought too hard about which one I'd choose. I mean I use a sword because my—I mean it's just all I've had. I guess we're kind of young to be thinking about it. "

The stammer puzzled her, but Conall continued on a bit morosely before she could point it out. "But, I'm pretty sure Marcus and Kieran are both specialized already, and they're not much older than us."

"You pay more attention to them than I do." She paused then smirked. "Especially since one tenderly carried you home."

"Oh, come on! I really don't think that's how it went," he protested.

"Whatever. How are you so sure they've specialized?"

"I don't really know about Marcus but I'm pretty sure Kieran wears the earrings for mercenaries. They look like the one Chandler wears and he's one, so it makes sense right?"

"Of course it makes sense. You know it does," she grumbled. His self esteem was really miserable. "But so what if Kieran's already advanced? It's such an easy test, only a real loser would fail. In fact, it's so easy I doubt that specializing would be enough."

If Conall seriously wanted to question how she knew so much about the test, he kept his mouth dutifully shut and only muttered in agreement. Elora didn't know anything about the test, really, except that it cost money to take. Money that she probably didn't have. Though she tried her best not to, she turned bright red at the thought. Conall was gracious enough to not say anything about that either. When they decided it would be best to find the others and eat, he waited patiently while she brushed her hair and put it up, though it had been so long since she had put her hair into buns that it turned into a drawn out struggle.

He didn't seem to mind that even though he was talking she didn't actually acknowledge him. She certainly had no idea what he had been saying when she interrupted him with a heavy sigh and, "Altea, finally!" when her hair cooperated.

"Now we can go eat right? I think my stomach is eating itself." Conall stood and rubbed his stomach, a very serious frown on his face. Elora rolled her eyes, gingerly testing her leg before walking with him to the door and out to the landing.

"You're so dramatic."

"We can be dramatic together!"

"I am not dramatic!"

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If the occasionally long waits between chapters makes you anxious, remember to check out my wordpress! I've been doing World Building Weekends where I talk about different details of the story. So far I've talked about how the characters got their names, and what advancement tests are like in Oak and Holly. If you have something you're curious about you should ask me and see if I talk about it there!


	15. Enemies Closer

Sorry for yet another long gap! Between finals, packing and relentless self editing, this chapter took longer than intended. That being said: _**I am going to be on vacation with spotty internet for nearly two weeks.** _I'll have my computer so I can write if I have time, but I don't know if I'll be able to post. So enjoy this chapter and the bonus chapter that was recently posted on my Wordpress while I'm gone, just in case!

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**Oak and Holly**

_Enemies Closer_

Conall was sure that he had not been so out of breath in his entire life, and considering everything that he had been through in only sixteen years, that was certainly saying something. He collapsed to the ground with a sigh, dripping sweat, and squinted up at the sky. It was barely after noon. He heard Chandler's voice, but it seemed to be miles away and he was starting to wish he actually _was _miles away, which was a very Elora sort of thing for him to think.

But if the old man thought he would get back up this time then he'd have to be disappointed; arms heavy and legs sore, Conall couldn't even keep his eyes open, let alone sit up again. He was content to let his head rest on the grass, the chilled breeze from the mountains drying up his sweat.

Paralee clumsily stretched and rolled across him, wailing as she went: "Finally, food!"

"Bring some back for us," Elora called. She was somewhere in the grass nearby, probably lying in the same place she had collapsed earlier, refusing to get back up.

"Lazy," Chandler scolded.

"I'm injured, give me a break!"

"You're on an hour break right now. You better make the best of it."

One hour for about three straight hours of intense exercise. It seemed fair enough to Conall, but Elora was already petitioning for more time even as Chandler walked away from them. A lot of sighing—dramatic sighing of course—followed and he lifted his head to watch her huff and roll towards him. When she was close enough to speak to him she hissed: "Tyrant."

"Ridiculous," he sighed. "Rolling over here to complain like that."

"Don't start taking a page out of my book," she snapped, then continued: "I'm not meant for this kind of life. I'm sweaty and dirty and on the whole much more stupid."

"What? Stupid?"

She nodded grimly. "I'm sure I lost brain cells while doing all those sit-ups. Are those really even necessary for me? I can just set everything on fire!"

"What, you don't want a hot body like mine?" Conall weakly flexed while Elora sneered. "Arms of steel. Abs of, uh, steel."

"Brain non-existent. My body is fine and I mean _fine._" She gestured vaguely as she drew out the word. "I don't need to do push-ups or lunges or anything else."

He frowned, blinking up at the sky; they weren't very far from the center of Carderock—actually they were only in the field behind Germaine and Tiana's—so he could hear the laughter and arguing of residents and adventurers, doing their best to cope with close quarters.

Elora laughed, short and harsh, and he turned to look at her. "Oh come on, don't start sulking. You can do a lot of things without a brain!"

Chuckling, he reached over and tapped his knuckles against her shoulder. "As long as I have someone with brains next to me I'm fine, right?"

"Better stop chasing Amerise."

"Aw, c'mon," he sighed and turned his head, looking out across the grass. Elora giggled and sighed as well, but didn't continue the harassment.

They still didn't know where Amerise and Braedon were. Asking Chandler, Deckard and Germaine had proved useless; Adeline had tried to help by suggesting possible locations then admitted she really had no idea, and was only trying to make them feel better; Tiana had laughed right in their faces, and continued laughing after they had left.

He was rather sure that he could still hear her laughing in the crowd, that bustling mass that he could barely see between houses and trees—a mass which seemed to be breaking apart and inching towards them. With a grunt he sat up, wiping at the drying sweat on his forward as Elora made a sound of disgust—"You're _dripping_!"—and realizing with a small amount of dread that they were being approached by bright blue.

"It's Kieran," he breathed.

"Oh Goddess, the damsel reunites with her prince. Run to him and give him a kiss to show your thanks."

He clicked his tongue, flicking sweat from his neck at her face. She screeched and leapt up faster than she had moved the entire day. He was surprised to see that Kieran wasn't wearing his armor, and without it he almost looked tiny; it was also surprising that he still wore blue even casually. To Kieran's credit he ignored the whole scene that had occurred and smiled at both of them. "The last time I saw you, you were on indefinite bed rest."

"We're both alright now," Conall muttered. "Thanks."

His smile briefly widened at the gratitude, but he raised his eyebrows curiously and gestured to the grass near them. "Do you mind if I sit?"

Conall had wanted to brush him off, to point out that they only had a short time to eat, but Elora had sat back down and breezily replied: "We don't mind at all."

"I feel like you mind a little bit, but thank you all the same." Kieran looked at him in particular when he said this, sitting cross-legged near Elora. "I really am glad that you're both alright. I was especially worried about you, Conall. You looked—well, dead. I was surprised you were still breathing."

"I'm surprised too, honestly," he muttered.

"Well you might not be alive much longer, thanks to Chandler," Elora said.

Kieran winced in sympathy then smiled again. "He's brutal. Probably why he's always begging for students, not everyone can handle him."

Conall shrugged his shoulders and Elora sniffed. "Well, he's nicer than my old teachers," she said, and he laughed bitterly and nodded in agreement. He didn't know much about Elora's experience but he knew that pretty much anyone would be nicer than _his_ last teacher.

"I wouldn't let him hear that. He'll try to work hard to be the worst," Kieran said. "You can't be a good warrior trainer if you're not tough."

"Has he always been the teacher here?" Elora asked.

"He trained me and Marcus. I think he was even here before the siege—no one told you about that?" He raised his eyebrows at Conall's confused expression. "You went through the aftermath of it when you went to the Sanctuary. Of course, the barricades are part of the aftermath of that, too."

Elora looked confused as well, and frustrated with being left out; she hadn't left the town since her injury. Conall sighed. "There are ruins to the north. An old center of town."

"Geeze, why not just fix them up and move back in?"

"It's too close to the old Sanctuary, which is overrun with monsters." Kieran explained. "Plus, people are afraid of the poison in the forest. They didn't think it was worth trying to save."

He and Elora both shouted in alarm. "Poison?"

"I don't think it really spread. It was really only in the forest beyond the ruins, and it's a pretty good distance away from here." Kieran spoke casually, as if they were discussing a bad turn in the weather that had to be accepted. "People are just afraid of the chance. I know Marcus would be the first to support fixing the ruins. His home used to be there."

The mention of his shadow made the lack of him more obvious. It certainly seemed to catch Elora's notice, as she looked around at the mention of him. "Where is he anyway? I saw what a mess Braedon's face was but I was looking forward to seeing what Marcus looked like."

"I'm sure he's lobbying against Deckard with everyone else that's underage. I can assure you he looks much worse than Braedon, at any rate."

That caught Conall's interest. "Marcus is underage?"

Kieran nodded, looking a little irritated. "Unfortunately he won't turn eighteen until the summer. I understand where they're coming from with the whole thing, but Marcus has dedicated most of his life to protecting Carderock. They shouldn't ignore that because of his age."

"How can a seventeen year old dedicate most of his life to something?" Elora grumbled. Kieran smiled, his jaw tight and his eyes on the whole unaffected, and stayed quiet for a few long, moments before finally speaking, choosing his words carefully.

"Marcus took it upon himself to protect his mother even from a young age, and he's continued helping others since then. There's a reason he's a warrior, though he's sort of presented himself in a bad light to you." His tone left little room for additional comment, and so Conall and Elora sat close together in silence while the older boy scrutinized both of them.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, and spoke again. "I'm sorry. The reason I came to talk to you was to let you know my offer still stands: if there's any way I can help you I'll gladly do it."

"You've already helped enough," Conall replied. His quick response startled and apparently offended Kieran, because he frowned rather deeply. "I mean—you helped Paralee and Amerise when you carried me back here. I don't think we can ask you to keep helping us out."

"And Marcus did give Braedon at least a few bruises, which is enough for me," Elora muttered. "Though he's free to give him more."

"I'm sure he'd be happy for a rematch, but Marcus will have to speak for himself—I genuinely just want to help you. Given what you'll all be up against I think it's only right."

"Right now the only thing we're up against is a giant fence," Conall pointed out with a smile.

Kieran looked at them in sympathy again, but nodded. He stood up easily, dusting off his pants and regarding them sternly. "No one knows this place better than Marcus and me. Don't worry. I'll do what I can, but you have to trust me."

"We do," Elora said, nodding. She had pinched Conall's arm before he could protest and he couldn't do anything but watch Kieran walk away from them. "You can't let Paralee tell you how to think about people."

He rubbed his arm and shook his head. "Aren't you telling me how to think about people?"

Elora rolled her eyes, sighing heavily. "I'm telling you to think for yourself and to recognize a good deal when you see one! Like them or not they seem to be influential guys, now's a pretty good time to be associated with them, don't you think?"

"He didn't even tell us what he was planning to do. We're better off just sticking with Chandler."

"As if you can only go to one person at a time for help. Conall, really! If things fall through with Kieran, we still have Chandler. If things with Chandler take too long, we have Kieran. It's simple, come on."

A shrug was enough to satisfy her, and she didn't push the subject when Paralee did finally return with sandwiches—she had been eating her own lunch first—nor did she bring it up again for the rest of the afternoon. She seemed content with the idea that he was at least considering her point, and though he didn't say as much he was in fact doing just that.

He thought about it very carefully; through lunch, through being drilled on parries and counters, through Elora's complaining and Paralee's grumbling that Alfredo could protect her—at which point he took it upon himself to remind Paralee that Alfredo might not always be there and to inform Elora that if she knew how to parry then she wouldn't have had her nose broken by that dark elf—and then he continued his consideration uninterrupted.

By the time that Chandler had finally ended his training for the day, and Braedon and Amerise approached them where they were sprawled on the grass, he had reached a decision. He kept it to himself, letting it settle, waiting to see if it really suited him, and listened to Amerise explain where they had gone.

"We went to see the woman that had helped you. Her name is Argenta, and it seems that we can trust her as an ally, but," she hesitated, looking solemn, "it seems like we don't have much time."

"Is that Black Knight going to kill Rose or something?" Elora asked. Conall wasn't sure how she could sound so casual about it, but Amerise and Braedon both shook their heads.

"Apparently there's something in the Temple of Sleepers that lets him use her power. We spoke to Bailey about it. Ancient devices like the one in the temple, and in the valley, react to their presence. The Black Knight won't hurt Rose," Braedon explained.

Conall frowned. "Then what is he using her power for?"

"We don't know. Argenta didn't say much, just that we had to hurry and find the Obedience Pendant. Apparently Germaine knows where it is," Amerise said. "We—that is, Braedon and I think—"

"We can't wait for you to finish your training with Chandler," Braedon cut in. "We don't have that kind of time. Amerise and I are going to ask Germaine about the pendant, and retrieve it—"

"Then immediately go to the Temple of Sleepers with Argenta, if we can," she finished.

Elora tensed beside him, but the announcement had successfully stunned all three of them into silence. There were no shouts of outrage, or bargaining, or reasoning, which seemed to be just as much a surprise to Braedon and Amerise as it was to Conall. They apologized cautiously, as if that might prompt a reaction, but it didn't.

He turned to Elora and Paralee to see if he could make out what they should do, but they were only looking at the older pair with passive expressions until they left, which Conall didn't notice until he looked back and there was nothing but grass in front of him.

Paralee seemed to be trying to furiously work out a calculation, muttering to herself and making frustrated outbursts about how nothing was going the way it was supposed to. Elora lay in the grass, ignoring both of them, more interested in taking a nap.

With a frown Conall reached out and shook her shoulder. "I'm going to talk to Kieran."

The calculation came to an immediate halt then, and Paralee looked at him as if she had literally been stabbed in the back. "What! Why?"

"Do what you want Conall, I really don't care if I'm the one to save Rose or not," Elora sighed.

"Kieran said he would help us, that he knows this town better than anyone else. If we can't get permission, we can sneak out."

Sunlight glinted off of Paralee's glasses as she adjusted them, regarding him with a little less betrayal and a little more skepticism. "And how do you know he won't betray us? Try to kill us? How will you fight him off when you're exhausted?"

"He doesn't know about Alfredo. Besides, I could still take him even if I was sleeping, he's not that big."

"Conall I don't believe you're really thinking this through. I know that sometimes great plans are made in times of desperation but if you don't take account for very real risks—"

"Paralee, this is what I believe is right. If we can use Kieran and Marcus to our advantage, we should do it," he said firmly. Elora lifted a hand to cover a smile, and Paralee sighed in resignation, looking up at the trees.

"They'll want to come with," she said finally.

"We can handle them—Elora could handle them alone," he reasoned.

Elora's smile quickly disappeared. "I said I didn't care if I go or not. I'd rather sleep!"

Conall looked down at her, carefully raising an eyebrow. "And if I pay you?"

Her lips pursed and eyes narrowed. "With what money?"

"Paralee and I had been doing commissions. I've saved up ten gold by now," he said. Elora's interest immediately disappeared and he looked up to Paralee for help.

"I have ten gold, too! That's twenty, with some change!" she offered, glasses slipping down her nose.

"Well," she sniffed. "I suppose that's enough."

Paralee seemed to be a little more reassured with the idea of going to Kieran for help now that Elora had agreed to accompany them, but she didn't want to approach him about it. Conall left to find him on his own, which was probably for the best all the same; if anyone saw him talking to Kieran and Marcus, they would probably just assume he was challenging them to a fight and not staging an escape from town.

The crowd was still thick and unruly, but since he didn't have Elora with him, he simply pushed his way through as he looked for bright blue and orange. He had never seen either of them return to a house despite the fact that he and Paralee had watched them both closely; they seemed to prefer camping out between commissions, and only returned to town when it was absolutely necessary.

Of course, now that Marcus was stuck in town, they couldn't exactly camp out in the wild; rather, he found Kieran sitting at the back of a building, near an open door that was surrounded by flower pots. He looked very pleased that he was visiting, and gestured for him to sit down on the stoop beside him. Conall peered inside the door curiously before he sat down.

"I live here with Marcus and a few other families," Kieran explained. "It gets hot in the kitchen so they leave the door and windows open. So your training is done for the day, huh?"

"Kieran, we need your help."

"Straight to the point," he muttered, running his hand through his hair. As he moved the light glinted off of a pair of earrings, blue stones set in metal, shaped to look like the blade of a battle axe. "Why the change of heart?"

"We don't have time to convince anyone we can leave," he muttered. "We need to sneak out."

Kieran's eyes widened in surprise, but then he turned and bent his head in thought. He was silent for several long minutes but then he finally nodded. "There might be a way. Though I don't know if everyone will appreciate it," he laughed. "You'll have to get a little wet."

* * *

Maybe it's my own misperception, but I'm under the impression that a lot of my readers like seeing Elora and Conall together, which is something I am completely happy to write (and I would keep doing it even if you all hated it)! A bit of a cliff hanger but I don't think it's too difficult to figure out what they'll do.


End file.
